Hope: The Other Line

Some stories stick to your heart like a spiderweb tangled in your hair. For such a slight thing it remains strong and persistent and shapes the way you look at and respond to the world. The strands of the story below have shaped me and I hope it encourages you to look at hope with fresh eyes and a new perspective.

We recently observed International Holocaust Remembrance Day and it was, as always, achingly awful to recall the atrocities committed against the Jewish people and other minorities between 1933 and 1945. While researching that time in history I was introduced to The Redhead of Auschwitz on Instagram, and the content is both solemn and encouraging.

I am planning on reading redheaded Rosie's story as penned by her granddaughter, Nechama Birnbaum, and as I browsed the sample excerpt, was struck by the infusion of the Psalms throughout the chapters. There is so much comfort to be found in the psalmist's words, and the juxtaposition of pain and peace holds a depth and richness worth holding onto. One story Rosie shared is regarding how she received her tattooed ID number. The following poem is that story as stirred within and told from my heart.

Two lines.

Two rows of bowed heads and slumped shoulders.

The rows were too long,

full of too many who had given up hope.

Too many who had been stolen from their futures,

From their families,

From their faith,

From the foundations of all they knew.

The woman before me shuddered,

Her shoulders trembled with the callused hand of fear.

I looked down.

for looking up would only serve to break my heart more.

My feet were dusty, with garish scratches ripping lines from my toes to my ankle.

My shoes had been taken away.

As had my brothers.

And my parents.

Along with every sweetness I had ever known.

For just a few minutes more I had a name.

I had dignity.

I had a future.

Yet as the muted colors of the condemned and cowering progressed

I was drawn closer to the end of who I was.

From under the lashes of my downcast eyes

I watched those at the front of the line

peel off and retreat,

returning with dragging feet to the yard,

hobbling down the path between the two rows,

the weight of their plight grinding their hearts into the dirt.

Some cradled their arms,

transfixed by the jagged lines etched on their flesh;

this thing that was given to them,

which served to rip everything away.

So many numbers.

I felt my heart beat faster.

In fear? In anger?

Perhaps.

But it was beating.

And it was strong.

And I realized something which has since shaped every moment:

Even in the confines of capture,

even in the grip of the gestapo,

even in the bowels of this decrepit pit of hell,

even if my life were crushed,

even if every breath were stolen from my lungs,

I had a choice.

Even if I had nothing else,

I could still choose this one thing:

Hope.

In that moment I knew the decision I must make,

and the depth of it burned a fire of resolve in my chest,

spilling forth in determined tears.

Here, now, in this formation of broken people

I would live.

I would survive.

I would escape.

I would continue to hope.

And as that decision settled into my heart,

making its home between the pain and the sorrow,

I began to notice details.

I saw the woman with red nails.

I heard the child soothing himself with a lullaby.

I felt the sun warm my freshly shaved head–

That glorious, consistent sun which never burnt out–

And I noticed the numbers.

I watched the dejected people returning from the front of the line,

inspecting their new identity

inscribed in ink,

their skin pink and raw around the crisp lines on their forearms.

Those leaving my row were marked in a clumsy script,

With shaking lines, sloppy ink, and uneven spacing.

Those from the other row were inked neatly,

The numbers uniform and proud.

And so

I lifted my head.

I filled my lungs with life.

And I ran to the other line.

In that moment,

after choosing hope,

I chased it down

because I knew:

I was going to survive.

And the life I lived would carry with it all the mountains I overcame

including this first mountain of having my name taken away

in exchange for a number scrawled on my flesh.

And though it may sound petty,

though it may be a little thing,

this choice embodied hope.

I could not escape the numbers.

But I could place myself in the line with the more talented tattooer.

I planned to live,

and I didn’t want sloppy numbers for the rest of my life.

I would find love

and when it came

I wanted to be beautiful.

There is always a choice,

even in the most derelict of dungeons.

There is always hope.

But it must be chosen and chased after.

If you believe in hope

you can continue to believe in your dignity.

You can continue to believe in your future.

You may not be able to escape the scars,

but hope will shape which line you stand in.

Welcome, New Year!

I am not defined by the circumstances of this past year, nor whatever the next year holds. I am defined by the One who carefully guides me through each day, and my understanding of that definition is shown by my response to those events.

This past year was hard, but so were the last several decades. Why? Simply because my heart has been pummeled by events out of my control since I became aware of life outside myself.

Yet in each of those trials, strains, pressures, and heavy places I am made more aware of the specific grace of Jesus which permeates through every bitter pain in the most detailed, exact, beautiful way.

Were it not for the pain I would not understand His comfort. Were it not for the sorrow I would not understand His peace. Were it not for the brokenness I would not understand His healing. I will not ask for pain, but I will pray to know Him more.

And, if pain is the path to a fuller understanding of my Savior’s heart, then I am pleased to make pain my sweetest friend.

Welcome, New Year. I know your Commander and He loves me. I will ever trust Him as you are dictated by His goodness.

Nikki Is HERE!

Oh, Friends! After a year of writing, editing, designing, hoping, changing, uploading, formatting, rearranging, and waiting, my little book, Nikki Learns About Life, is available!

This little story follows nine-year-old Nikki as she navigates life and home, complete with annoying siblings, parents who don't understand, and other inexplicable pressures of feeling unseen. After the final chapter was written and I read over what had been typed out I realized that it had become a biblical counseling handbook and devotional for mothers and daughters, disguised as Children's Literature.

Releasing a second book is so different than birthing the first... I am still just as excited, and just as satisfied in the effort that was poured into the book, but there is less stress, less fear, and more rest. I have been learning (again and again and again) that my worth has absolutely nothing to do with anything I can achieve or become, and is instead hinged on who JESUS is and who He has called me to become. On account of that continued growth, releasing Nikki is simply JOY.

That which I've been learning about life and love and longing, and every piece of biblical counseling that I've been immersing myself in has blanketed the process of letting this little book live. And I am EXCITED!

I had a handful of girls and mamas who had the chance to read Nikki over the last several weeks, and several shared some really encouraging reviews. It is super exciting to see how Nikki is already equipping families to know and love Jesus more, and how a little story bolsters them to serve Him-- specifically in the realm of life with a tween girl.

A couple of responses from mamas:

The book has served us in relating spiritual concepts that I could not have provided myself.

It helped my daughter voice how she sometimes feels lost in our family and can relate to Nikki.

Because the content is so relevant to the kids and even myself, we have had some wonderful heart conversations.

The second Nikki book is already under way, and I'm SUPER excited about what's happening in her life as a ten-year-old. But for right now I'm trying to remember that my priority is to make this first book available and exciting everyone who doesn't live inside my own head!

I am NOT a gifted marketer. I'm not wonderful at making sure that relevant audiences know about resources that might be a blessing to them. On account of this, I am SO very appreciative for your encouragement and support. (Thank you, thank you, thank you!!)

If you place an order via my website, please use the promo code STUDYGIRLS for an extra $1 off your order. (To "cheat" the system for $1 off multiple items you'll need to make multiple orders.) The trick is that I'm still waiting on my copies, so it'll take a couple of weeks to receive your treasures if you purchase through me. If you head to Amazon, however, you can get both the book and the companion journal and have them delivered in just a couple of days.

Oh, my goodness. WOW.

This has been such a fun journey, and I am SO grateful to have you along for the ride.

Thank you for your continued support, and for your investment in this ministry. If I come to mind please pray that Jesus will use the Nikki Learns series to His glory, and that in reading it others would know Him more.