Hope for Tomorrow

On a frigid evening, just a few days into the New Year, my husband, Brad, and I, now southerners, found ourselves bundled from head to toe and wandering the streets of Hudson, NY, as tourists without a guide.

Just days prior, we boarded a plane, with little direction other than to escape to the Hudson River Valley together. An odd destination in the middle of winter, but our grief was heavy and we longed to be anywhere that would remind us of our son.

Three months prior, we held our Hudson in a silent delivery room and left the hospital empty-handed, with hearts shattered and our souls clinging to the promise of eternity. With grief upon grief as we held Hudson’s big sisters the next morning, the Lord graciously met us, guided us and carried us through the days and weeks ahead. He met us again on the banks of the Hudson River as we quite tearfully watched the most glorious, golden sun dropping beyond the horizon.

​Before I knew it, I was zoomed in on my phone, taking pictures worthy of Instagram of the brilliant sunset on the far bank of the river. At that moment, I felt God speaking and I looked around. Slowly, I zoomed out. I started snapping pictures with our less than desirable surroundings on this side of the river in the foreground: rusty industrial buildings, worn pieces of dock, drainage pipes, ice smashing into the rocky shoreline.

“The brokenness of this world doesn’t compare to the glory that is coming; the brokenness of this world doesn’t compare to the glory that is coming...” played over and over in my heart, as I sobbed, shivering with the glory of the Lord on full display just across the river, while my Shepherd was guiding me and leading me through the valley of the shadow of death on these banks.

Through every present tense line of Psalm 23, I can testify to His faithfulness. The first five and a half verses, give us hope for today that we have an ever-present Shepherd, guiding us, His sheep, through the valleys of this life, restoring us with green pastures and still waters, comforting us, anointing us with oil and overflowing our cups all of the days of our lives.

And then King David pens the words, “and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever” (Psalm 23:6b). In that one precious, yet simple verse, David shifts from our present help to the future and what is to come. Every present-tense sorrow, evil, danger, sickness, shattered dream, broken relationship, or disappointment that you may be facing today, must bow at that line of Scripture. It’s the zoomed in photograph, the glory that outshines it all; the promise of eternity in the presence of our Savior. Our present help points us to the hope we hold for tomorrow.
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Our shepherd, He is leading us home, to His house, where the buildings aren’t rusty and the docks are made whole. Where He will wipe away every tear and we, Hudson, and you and I, we will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen and Amen.

“And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Psalm 23:6b (NIV)

About the Author

Hi there - I’m Alexa Gearhart!  My husband Brad and I live in the woods of North Carolina where we serve in ministry and chase after our three beautiful daughters.  While I’ve walked with the Lord for many years, the loss of our son in 2021, ignited a deeper passion in me for ministry, intentional community, and raising children who chase hard after Him.  You can usually find me homeschooling my girls, gathering with friends or  running around town.