Defining Word: Hope

a timeline of the last two years of Hope Ranch

Hope (verb)¹, as in “long for, dream about.” Synonyms include: believe, expect, desire, and pray.

1.

On a Monday in late November, our fourth child was born. After three boys, we had a daughter. Her arrival was a story of hope in four parts.

2.

The same week we brought Hannah home from the hospital, we closed on a property we called Hope Ranch. Hope, after our daughter’s middle name. Hope, for what we might be able to build on this land. Hope, for what we could grow.

3.

I commissioned landscape designs and renderings of the property so we could plan our projects. The renderings helped us visualize the land not just as a farm but as a place to play, rest, and host.

The avocado sales would help pay for those projects. Or so we thought.

4.

The first two years we owned the ranch were a blur. I was—and still am—in the throes of mothering four young children. I struggled—and still do—to fit my work within the margins of each day.

So, I did not pay close attention to the water bills (though I knew they were astronomical). I did not pay close attention to the avocado sales (though I knew they ran far below expectations).

I worked the farmer’s market with my family; distributed bags of avocados to our network of family, friends, neighbors, and teachers; delivered crates of avocados to the food pantry; posed for family photos for a local magazine featuring our farm; perfected our guacamole recipe.

I felt like I worked all the time, but none of it contributed to the bottom line.

We thought the avocados would at best be profitable and at worst be self-sustaining.

We were wrong.

Hope (noun), as in “longing, dream.” Synonyms include: ambition, aspiration, and pipe dream.

5.

Two years after buying the farm, I sit at my pink iMac on my Saturday “off,” poring over the spreadsheet detailing the farm’s income and expenses. Expenses, mostly. All I see is red. The ranch has been hemorrhaging cash.

For the last two years, we’ve accumulated loss after loss: crippling water bills, severe windstorms, irrigation line damage, and avocado theft.

We can’t keep going like this, I tell my husband. How does this make sense for us to keep this place?

I do not feel hopeful.
I feel completely and utterly defeated.

6.

I’m at a MomCo meeting at our church when the speaker reads the theme for the year. The theme is Wild Hope.

She reads:

“A new season needs a new strategy, and we choose wild, contagious hope. Hope is not a passive exercise in wishing; it’s an active approach to living life engaged. Hope is generative. In Proverbs 13:12 we read, ‘Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.’ Hope provides clarity, vision and vitality.”

Early last year, I had the renderings for the landscape design done for the ranch, but I never shared them publicly. The reality of our negative net income dampened the excitement I felt for what we could build.

Hearing those words—clarity, vision, vitality—I remember those renderings. When I first saw them, I felt like they captured the vision of what the ranch could be.

I no longer expect we’ll reach the vision those renderings promise.

But I trust the dreaming was worth it. However this ends, we will make something of it.

Hope is generative.

7.

I wake in the early hours of the morning thinking about what we need to do differently. I need to reach out to that farm in Fallbrook to see if they can consult with us. I need to look up the grove management company I saw mentioned on Redfin. I need to make an appointment to get the gate code changed. I add another task to my list: Hire a nanny so I can work during the week.

Taking a break from my task list, I pull up my friend

Becky Morquecho

’s Substack to read. She starts Notes of Hope, Vol. 2 with the verse I have pinned next to my to-do list:

“Forget the former things, do not dwell on the past. See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” - Isaiah 43:18-19, NIV

8.

More weeks pass. Our neighbors and the incredible owners of Quixote Farm offer to take over the day-to-day management of the avocado groves—an answered prayer.

I learn about how important local and organic foods are for our bodies. I read about regenerative agricultural practices. New ideas spark.

9.

On a recent weekday, my husband resets the security codes and the fertilizer plans for the farm. With help, he builds a long raised garden bed for vegetables. Before he heads home, he takes the bags of seeds sourced from last year’s metallic zinnias, and he plants them on the open hillside where, once grown, they’ll dot the land with bright, shimmering blooms the colors of sunset.

one rendering we did manage to (mostly) bring to life

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More Defining Words² you might enjoy:

• Confidence by

  Ashlee Gadd

• Sweet Spot by

  Ashlee Gadd

• Single by

  Katie Blackburn

• Micro-Impact by

  Katie Blackburn

• More Generous Than Necessary by

  Ashlee Gadd

• Healing by

  Less Noise, Low Whispers

• Delight by

  Rachel Sanchez

• Held by

  Krista Steele

• Settling In by

  Jenna Brack

Do you have a defining word? Share it in the comments!

1. From Oxford Languages

2. I first learned of this format from my friends, Ashlee and Katie, who used it in the writing workshop they led in Exhale. The form was originally inspired by Amy Krouse Rosenthal’s Textbook.