Mountain of Hope
by
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My siblings and I all agree that growing up in Rochester, Michigan in the home of Pastor and Peggy Burow was, for the most part, a happy and safe haven. But did we really have no major problems? Or did my parents shelter us from them? My mom always seemed to be smiling and my dad's sense of humor kept us all laughing. Problems, losses, and difficulties seemed to happen to everyone else, but not to us. We had the perfect family--at least as perfect as we could be, I think. Every once in a while we'd get sent to our rooms for silly little things...but for the most part, we were perfect. So I put pressure on myself to be the perfect pastor's daughter, since we were the perfect family. I felt I was always being watched by people at church. I felt the pressure of having to be good, and I took responsibility for making sure we kids made our parents look good. I put unrealistic--impossible--expectations on myself and my family.
Now I realize that pressure came from the Enemy, full of lies and shame. The truth is I was loved and accepted for who I was and there was grace and forgiveness when I messed up. But it was easier to hide my mistakes than admit them and repent. I was way too concerned with how others viewed me. I thought it was wrong to have problems...
In January of 1988, Rochester was hit with a bad ice storm. I was out with some friends when I realized I should go home before the roads got even worse. It was the kind of night no one should be out driving. With my hands clutched to the wheel, I crept along the slick roads until finally I reached the entrance of our neighborhood. My dad was standing there, waiting for me. My first thought was that our house was on fire. What other explanation could there be for my dad to be standing out in the cold, bundled from head to toe while chunks of ice pelted down on him. I stopped the car and let my dad in. He must have seen the look of horror on my face and reassured me nothing was wrong. He had only come out to tell me that the road to our house was a sheet of ice, and that I should take the long way around.
"Dad! How long have you been standing out here?" I knew I hadn't told them when I would be home, and back then we didn't have cell phones. (Remember those days?!)
"Your mom and I have been waiting out here for two hours. We had no idea when you would be home. Mom walked home about five minutes ago."
I know, right? I was so loved and cared for. My parents came to my aid. My parents protected me. My parents loved me. My parents sacrificed for me. My parents made me feel safe. But there were bigger storms coming that my parents would not be able to spare me from. My only hope would be to fully depend on God to get me through.
But would I?
(Years later) As I was standing in the driveway, waiting for Eric’s bus, I noticed a car coming down the street that looked just like my parents’ car. They lived four hours away so it would have been very odd for them to come unannounced. As the car got closer, I realized that it was my parents. What are they doing here?
They stepped out of the car and I knew something was wrong. Very, very wrong. And then it hit me. I knew.
“NO!” I screamed. “NO! DON’T EVEN SAY IT!”
They both ran to me and held me as they confirmed my worst fear.
“No! No! No! No!” was about all I could say. I stood there in shock and disbelief. ...Dad took a break from the phone calls and sat by me. I looked at him and knew he would do anything he could to help me. He must have read my mind because the next thing I heard was, "Don't worry, Karen. I will take care of you." But this was bigger than an ice storm.
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About the Book
Karen collapsed into her dad’s arms upon learning her husband was gone. She was facing a mountain of heartache, with foothills of depression and devastating loss as a suddenly single mom. Now, this Midwestern pastor’s daughter could no longer avoid or hide her problems, fears, and dire circumstances but had to face them head-on. And in doing so, she was finally willing to acknowledge that people in church pews have problems too. Karen shares how her story is just part of the bigger one God is writing. And so is yours. This true story will infuse you with faith as Karen shows you how Jesus can turn whatever mountain is ahead of you into a mountain of hope.
“Karen Dancey’s book reaches into deep places, tugs at the soul, and pulls out raw honesty and hard truth. Through the sharp turns of life, she never loses sight of the forgiveness, hope and love she has in Christ. Her storytelling is vivid and will hold you accountable for your own life in the best possible way. Having a longer lens through which to view her past, she writes with refreshing boldness and confident faith. Karen knows where she’s been, where she’s going, and to whom she belongs. From every angle, you will see glimpses into your own story and heart. It is clear God is using her tragic yet beautiful story to captivate us with the same living hope that rescued Karen in her darkest hours.”
—Gina Kell Spehn is a New York Times Best Selling Author (The Color of Rain) and Co-Founder and President of New Day Foundation for Families
“Dancey uses tender, raw honesty to trudge through her mountain of despair, all the while building a stairway to the mountain of hope that only our God can provide.”
—Kelly Prisby, Teacher
“Through Karen’s story, you will see an inside glimpse into God’s sovereignty and love. God gave Karen an extreme soul makeover experience. He delivered her and turned sorrow and pain into joy and hope.”
—Maryann Gilliam, recipient of a home built by ABC’s hit show [Extreme Makeover: Home Edition]
About the Author
Karen Dancey lives in southeast Michigan with her newly married husband, Lee, and their three precious sons. Back in 1994, Karen began a fun tradition of turning her annual Christmas letter into a poem; hence, her love for writing began. Since then, she certainly has had plenty of extreme life experiences to write about and she strives to keep focused on God through it all. In her spare time, Karen enjoys scrapbooking, walking with friends, and helping children read. You are welcome to contact Karen at karendancey@yahoo.com to invite her to speak or to share your comments.