Mountain of Hope

By Karen Dancey

Karen collapsed into her dads 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 pastors 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 Danceys 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 shes been, where shes 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 Karens story, you will see an inside glimpse into Gods 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 ABCs hit show [Extreme Makeover: Home Edition]

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jun 3, 2011
• ISBN: 9781449716462

Karen Dancey

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 [e-mail] to invite her to speak or to share your comments.

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Copyright © 2011 Karen Dancey.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4497-1647-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-1648-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-1646-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011928527

WestBow Press rev. date: 7/28/2017

CONTENTS

Foreword by Steve Fair, LMSW

Introduction

Chapter 1.     A Pastor’s Home Of Hope

Chapter 2.     A Marriage Full Of Hope

Chapter 3.     Building A Family Of Hope

Chapter 4.     Clinging To Hope

Chapter 5.     Hope Of The American Dream

Chapter 6.     Hoping For Change

Chapter 7.     Searching For Our Mountain Of Hope

Chapter 8.     Hoping For A Safe Journey Home

Chapter 9.     Disappearing Hope

Chapter 10.   Losing Hope

Chapter 11.   God Of Hope

Chapter 12.   Overflowing With Hope

Chapter 13.   Choosing Hope

Chapter 14.   Helping Hands Bring Hope

Chapter 15.   Hope For The Holidays?

Chapter 16.   Hope Is Fading, Hope Is Found

Chapter 17.   An Aside: Sharing The Hope

Chapter 18.   The Hope Of Answered Prayer

Chapter 19 .   Faith, Hope, And Love

Chapter 20 .   New Hope

Chapter 21 .   Holding On To Hope

Chapter 22.   A Breathtaking View Of Hope

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About The Author

Resources And Notes

To Eric, Jeremy, and Keith

I am honored and so very glad

God chose me to be your mom

To Paul and Peggy Burow

Thank you, Mom and Dad,

from the bottom of my heart!

To Midgie Schmidt

Happy 97th Birthday!

You continue to be a first-class Grandma!

In Loving Memory

Matthew Eric Matzinger

Rex Alan Matzinger

Dorothy Margaret Matzinger

I wasn’t ready to say good-bye!

FOREWORD

Steve Fair, LMSW

Christian Counselor

Author of The Journey into the Divided Heart

Climbing the Mountain of Hope is our ultimate challenge in this lifetime, with guaranteed dangers and trials along our way. After 25 years of being a Christian Therapist and Pastor, I have seen so many struggle to find their true hope as they try to hang on through hard times. To be honest, I have seen most people defeated when they face hopelessness and the traumatic emotional pain Karen shares in this book. Some, at times, may look like overcomers, but are really just coping through trials with denial, repression, covering pain with religious cliché’s, and hiding deep woundedness and brokenness of heart underneath. That is not true Hope. That’s why this book—Karen’s story, and the truths she is teaching—is so important for our culture today. It’s time we see that true hope stands in the midst of the realities of a fallen and painful world, even when its struggles hit our homes and hearts as personally as they did Karen’s.

You may be reading this today going through difficulties and need the hope Karen describes. There is a cost, though, and a struggle that comes with this journey to learn what true hope is. Some never attempt to climb the mountain, others give up when it gets hard. But you, like Karen, can make it to the top. You’ll find a hope that overrides the emotions and racing thoughts brought on by whatever hopelessness you may be facing.

The truth is there is a realm beyond what we see, a spiritual reality right behind the veil of what we see and feel. The backdrop of this earthly and physical reality is often what blinds us on our journey because our current circumstances can be deceiving. We can be fooled by our own perceptions, and the way leading us towards hope comes only in us learning to see beyond what our eyes are seeing and into what the eyes of our heart (Eph 1:8) must see. What seems hopeless, despairing, and depressing is the only reality when these same circumstances are not viewed from God’s eyes.

In the pages to come you will read the story of a beautiful, loving heart, whose family is faced with some very traumatic and despairing circumstances. You will see her and her husband, their kids, their extended family, and their communities, all struggle with life and death, depression and joy, and strive to keep a hope that comes but does not always stick around for long.

The spiritual reality Karen reveals in this amazing book, is the battle between God and Satan, angels and demons, the fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5), and the characteristics of an enemy (the devil) who steals, kills, and destroys (John 10:10). I am so glad you have chosen to read Mountain of Hope, not only because it is an intriguing and inspiring true story, but because you have given yourself the opportunity to see what Karen has seen: Hope is found in nothing less than Jesus, who has already won the battle, defeating the enemy that brings depression, mental illness, suicide, and all else that steals, kills, and destroys the blessings God has for us.

Karen shares about a hope that does not depend on the world around her being controlled and nicely packaged, but a hope that is eternal, based on a faith in a God who will carry her through whatever she will face. Be prepared to read even up to the end of this amazing story, what looks in your reality to be defeat and hopeless failure. But I assure you, as Karen sees and shares so powerfully, you will hear from above, what the devil meant to harm you, I have used for good (Gen 50:20).

You, too, are being called deeper into this hope, past the deception of the un-realities that you currently see and feel. You are being called to climb the Mountain of Hope into a higher reality that comes from really knowing the One who is greater than any harm you may face. My hope is that you will read, as I have, with an inward focus, watching your own heart as you read to listen to its stirrings, its questions, looking for how you have and how you would react to going through the trials Karen has faced. Karen shares how she heard God’s voice saying, It is going to be okay, Karen. How powerful and simple and true! I pray you too will hear the voice of Hope saying to you personally in the midst of whatever you may be going through: It is going to be okay!

INTRODUCTION

I collapsed into my dad’s arms upon hearing the shocking news that my husband of almost 14 years was dead. Suddenly, I was a widow and single mother to three young boys with no home to call my own.

Don’t worry, Karen. I will take care of you.

In that single moment, I only wished to go back thirty years and be a six-year-old again. I longed for the days when life was so simple, happy, and carefree. But as the numbness wore off and reality sunk in, I knew this was a wound much too deep for my dad to fix.

Losing Hope

Matt and I both had ideal upbringings and came from excellent homes. We had what anyone would consider a happy marriage. But that day, when my husband felt there was no way to go on, I too began to feel completely, utterly hopeless.

I had never done this before. Though I felt as if I was a single mom when he was away following orders from the Army, and we did have an extended period of being apart in career transitions, this was a new kind of alone.

There was no hope of him coming home this time.

An Even Greater Father

My dad’s arms held me up that day. I wrote later in an unusual Father’s Day gift that it was my most treasured memory even though it took place on the most tragic day of all. My dad continues to be a loving support to me throughout my story.

But my dad couldn’t offer the kind of eternal, life-giving hope that God, my Heavenly Father has so graciously given me since that day.

That day I began a journey up the mountain. It felt like it was the deepest valley I had ever been in, and it seemed hopeless and impossible. I felt like it was going to last forever. But I began climbing, because something in me told me I would one day come to the top, though that day was so far ahead of me I could barely see it. There were many obstacles ahead of me.

Now, as I look back and see how lovingly God has crafted my story, I can see that He gave me the strength and power to climb the mountain. My story isn’t just my story—it’s part of a bigger story God is writing. And I pray that my story would infuse hope into yours. Whatever mountain you are climbing right now, I pray you would gain godly perspective and endurance with every step. Jesus will be your source of hope.

Wherever you are on your mountain or if you’re in the valley, take heart. God’s arms hold you, and His hope can and will sustain you up the mountain.

It certainly did for me.

CHAPTER 1

A PASTOR’S HOME OF HOPE

My dad does not sin! He is a pastor! I yelled with great determination and confidence.

I was six, and my dad could do no wrong. So, when my Sunday school teacher explained that everyone sins and needs God’s forgiveness, I was understandably upset. I can only imagine the laughter my Sunday school teacher swallowed when I said that. Now, much older and wiser, I realize my dad isn’t perfect. But I still consider him one of the best dads around.

Best Dad Ever

Growing up, I can’t remember how many times I was asked What is it like having a dad who is a pastor? But it was all I ever knew; he was my dad and I loved and respected him very much. He didn’t preach to us all day, but he demonstrated many practical and spiritual lessons through his daily behavior. He taught us more by living out his faith than what we could have learned in a thousand Sundays.

The family I grew up in was ideal: Dad, Mom, Jennifer, me, Peter, and Sarah. We spent family dinners laughing together more than talking, and it was my favorite time of the day. My dad was always making us laugh, and his enthusiasm was contagious. Dad taught us how to laugh, and how to enjoy the moment.

I remember snow days when Dad would come running into our room all excited and proclaim, Girls! Look out the window and see all the snow! He grew up in Buffalo, New York, and remembers some record-breaking snow storms. He was like a little kid on snow days, all eager to go sledding. We couldn’t help but share his excitement whether or not we liked the cold.

Dad even made washing dishes fun! Well, on the nights that ping pong was involved, that is. Some nights we played doubles—our parents versus Jennifer and I—losers did the dishes. We always had fun even though Jennifer and I, no matter how much we practiced, could not pull out a victory. Once in a while, we would switch up the teams and I got to be with my dad. On those nights, it was a win-win for me. Winning meant I didn’t have to do the dishes AND I had the joyful experience of being on my dad’s team. Losing the game was still a win because standing at the kitchen sink with my dad meant that I had his undivided attention. Somehow, I always felt better after talking with my dad.

Being a pastor, Dad’s time was always at a premium, but he would tell us there was a time to work and a time to play. There were plenty of times I wished my dad had been home more. He would often work all day at church, come home for dinner, and then go back to church for meetings or to counsel people. But he taught us good time management and priorities; he always kept flexibility in his schedule. He took the time to teach me the fundamentals of basketball and softball, and when I made the team, he’d come to most of my games.

Dad was even one of my Confirmation teachers. Confirmation in the Lutheran church meant that I was publicly confirming my baptism. I wanted everyone to know that I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. He helped me choose a verse, and we settled on John 8:12, in which Jesus says, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." My dad helped me understand that Jesus promised to be my light and help me choose good over evil. I wanted the peace I saw in my parents’ lives – they were so full of peace, goodness, truth, and hope. They reflected the light of Jesus and that’s how I wanted to live my life. My dad played a huge role in my confirmation and the formative years of my faith.

There were perks to having my dad in charge of Confirmation, too. He was in charge of a bowling outing for us, so I offered to help organize the teams. Naturally, I made sure my best friend Sue, and the guy I had a crush on (tall, dark, and handsome!) were both on my team. (Stay tuned—more on that later!)

The Perfect Family

As a teenager, I felt the pressure of being a pastor’s daughter; I realized that being a pastor’s daughter did come with some important responsibilities. I didn’t always take that responsibility seriously enough. Like when I answered the phone late one Saturday night, and told the woman on the other end who said her husband had just died that my dad was not home. When my dad asked me who the phone was for, I panicked and lied, saying it was a wrong number, because I thought I’d get in trouble for not checking to see if my dad was home. The next morning in church, my dad prayed for healing for this person. He was so embarrassed when he found out what had happened and that I was the reason for his mistake. And I did get in trouble; he told me I was never allowed to answer the phone again. Looking back, I think my dad was way too easy on me.

I was immature and had no sympathy for this widow. I treated her phone call carelessly and had no clue as to the enormity of her loss. My life was happy and sheltered; I had no personal experience with tragedy during my childhood. 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, like dropping the pizza box on the ground while carrying it in the house or leaving the refrigerator door open for too long. 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.

BurowWilcoxcopy.jpg

Heritage of Faith

One of my favorite memories of my Grandma Burow is sitting on her front porch eating ice cream cones and hearing stories from her childhood and my dad’s upbringing. Grandma Burow had a deep faith and leaned on God’s strength often. She would tell about caring for my dad when he was six years old and had polio. My dad wrote about it later,