The House That Hope Built

Written by Tricia Goyer

I’m busy enough with my call as a writer,” I told Kathy when, for the hundredth time, she brought up the subject of starting a crisis pregnancy center.

 Didn’t she see I was already working hard for God’s kingdom?

Before I knew it, I was fully involved. My God-given leadership traits somehow pulled me in. As a writer I had learned to be organized, and they needed organization. I had also experienced numerous times God’s ability to pull an idea together. Those traits were beneficial as well.

Within months the vision became a reality, and we started our crisis pregnancy center with a borrowed room in our church (a half-office, really) and a cell phone. The plan was to put a 24-hour hot line number in the newspaper and provide free pregnancy tests for those who called. Kathy had volunteered these services before. She knew the need was great, and the closest pro-life center was hours away. Seemingly overnight, the calls began to come.

Amy, a young teen, called for a pregnancy test. She was a Christian girl who had made some bad choices. After counseling, Amy decided to have her baby and face her parents.

Another time a nurse called encouraging us to speak to a woman in her thirties who had canceled her doctor’s appointment, wanting instead to have an abortion. We were able to counsel her in time, and nine months later Shannon had a healthy son.

Each appointment was unique, yet in each we felt God’s hand. Life stories were shared and heart connections were made. It somehow seemed as if every counselor was hand-picked for each client.

We also received an abundance of baby clothes and furniture for the new moms, as well as numerous requests from the community. Would we be interested in speaking on the radio or at pro-life rallies? Kathy was always eager to share our cause.

With each speaking engagement came those interested in volunteering. Could we provide training? Did we need more hands? Of course! I discovered that the North American Mission Board provides training for new start-ups like ours. The director of Alternatives for Life was soon at our church training 35 women.

Where did they all come from? I wondered as I scanned the room that first day of training. Women from various denominations all joined together for one common goal — to give hope to troubled girls and women. Clearly God had brought us together for His good purpose.

We soon realized our half-office would not be big enough. Baby clothes and furniture were stacked from floor to ceiling. There was barely room for the counselor and the client to sit around the office desk.

“We need a bigger space,” I told the volunteers at our monthly meeting. “Start looking around and see what you can find.”

I received calls about possible office spaces. One seemed adequate for our needs. It had room for counseling and storage for baby items, but the rent was $750 a month. Our center relied solely on the contributions of others, and we were happy to receive half that amount in a month’s time.

“Just keep praying,” I told the volunteers. “God has the perfect place in mind for us. We simply have to wait for Him to lead us there.”
 
We prayed, but for a time it was hard not to be discouraged, especially when we learned that Kathy was moving across the country.

“God has raised up a mighty force here,” Kathy told me one day soon after her husband lost his job because of a mill closure. “I suppose He has work for me to do somewhere else.” She looked me in the eyes. “Keep up the good work,” she said.

It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to Kathy, yet how could I question God when He had provided 30 women to take her place?

The breakthrough in our office dilemma came when one of our volunteers heard that her church was looking for a ministry to make use of their parsonage.

“They’ve decided not to rent it out anymore,” Leona told me one day. “Maybe we should inquire about it.”

When I pulled up to the house to take a look, I couldn’t believe my eyes. “It’s more than I ever hoped for,” I whispered to myself. The large Victorian house rested on a corner lot only a few blocks from downtown. A white wrap-around porch was warm and welcoming. Inside, glass doors led to a formal living room and dining room. Upstairs, there were four bedrooms. Could this possibly be ours? I wondered.

A few volunteers met with the church board. The board was impressed with the growth and accomplishments of our center. Many abortion-minded women had chosen life for their children after receiving counseling. What greater testimony could we have than that?

We proposed that we use the house rent-free in exchange for remodeling work. I held my breath as the board considered the proposition. Tears blurred my vision as they agreed.

So this is Your plan, I thought as I drove away from the meeting. I glanced at the house through the rearview mirror, and hope filled me. If God would give us a house, surely He would furnish it, too.

And He did exactly that. Churches, families, and organizations sponsored rooms — painting, decorating, and furnishing them. A local businessman provided new living room furniture. A women’s group paid for our carpeting. We soon completely furnished the house. On opening day radio and television crews broadcasted from our location as dozens of visitors toured the new facility.

It’s hard to believe it’s only been a year and a half since Kathy provided the first pregnancy test in the borrowed office. Now “Hope House” stands as a testimony to her vision and her faith in God. Most importantly, volunteers from many denominations are still united, excited, and working together for our common cause.

Not so long ago, when we were deciding on a name for ourselves, “Hope Pregnancy Center” seemed to strike a chord with us all. We believed that hope was for the women we helped — hope for a future, hope for the new life they carried, hope in God. Yet in this short amount of time, we’ve also discovered that hope is for us, too. Hope in God’s plans bonds us together. And hope in God’s goodness has transformed a half-office into a house.

And as for me, I’m still writing. I’m still taking care of God’s house, and He’s faithfully taking care of my writing. Only these days, I have more to write about. I now share a story about how hope built a house that bears its name. 

Tricia Goyer is a freelance writer from Kalispell, Montana.

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