My Journey to Hope (Part 1)

How did I come to be at the very first Hope’s Garden Home? (Part I)

A number of people have asked me how I came to be at Hope’s Garden Home. I have to admit, I would have asked myself that too, had it not been for the direct invitation from our Bridegroom. In the end, it was so clear, it might as well have been an engraved invitation, as it was so engraved on my heart.

I realize now, that my call began many years ago, before Hope’s Garden was even imagined. As I look back, there have been many ways that the Lord has communicated to me over the years, although I didn’t always realize that it was Him in the moment. I’ve learned that since God is outside of time, that what He speaks to me is sometimes for the present time, but also sometimes for the future, as was the beginning of this call. 

It began with an experience of entering into the Scriptures through the imagination, as St. Ignatius of Loyola taught. I wanted to really give this a try, since it sounded a little “off” to me. I wondered how we could use our imaginations and not alter sacred Scripture. I will make this long portion as short as I can and still give you a good idea of what happened. I decided to sit alone in the woods on our property where I knew I was safe, but could pray without interruption. I took a blanket to sit on, a palm cross, Rosary and a bottle of water. Don’t try this when you’re in a hurry – I was gone for hours!

As I closed my eyes and entered into prayer with God, and under the guidance of St. Ignatius, I found myself on a boat with the disciples. As night came, the waves grew, and someone spotted Jesus walking towards us on the water. At first they thought he was a ghost, but I quickly realized that I was going to get to see Peter step out of a perfectly good boat and walk on water with Jesus! I knew this story, and I was excited to be here to witness this. But to my surprise, when Jesus approached, He reached out his hand and beckoned to me to come to Him. I found myself unable to move. Jesus repeated, this time using my name, “Joni, come.” Although I was fully aware that I was sitting on a blanket in the woods and perfectly safe, I was still not able to do as Jesus asked. I will never forget his eyes or the way that He looked at me and spoke to me. His way was love, gentleness and compassion. I was disappointed in myself – I thought my faith was stronger. How could I not come to Jesus when He called me! I was disappointed to miss the great adventure of walking on water with Jesus… He full well knew that I was not ready to say “yes,” but treasured seeds were planted in my broken heart that day, watered by my own tears. 

Over the next years I sought out ways to say “yes” to God. There were opportunities for employment with the Diocese for which I was well qualified. I applied, went to a few interviews, but in the end I either told them that I didn’t really want the job – that I just wanted to say “yes” to God’s call whatever that was or I cancelled interviews or withdrew my application. None of these seemed like what God was calling me to. Still, I had no idea what it was. 

One day in the Adoration Chapel, as I knelt before the Blessed Sacrament, I had a yearning to feel that special closeness with the Lord that sometimes seems so strong, and then fades away. I prayed to feel that nearness again. As I prayed, I heard Jesus’ words in my heart, “Draw near to me.” Since I was a regular at Adoration, morning Mass, and employed full-time in active ministry, I asked what He meant by that. I was met with silence. Then, on my drive home, I “saw” Jesus throughout his ministry – touching, healing, casting out demons, raising the dead, walking on water and so much more. I began to write all of these down, and later wrote a book with a chapter for each of these. Notice the theme again of Jesus’ invitation to come – this time, “draw near.” I titled the book Draw Near to Me – Jesus Beckons, and published it earlier this year. 

Four years ago, about five years after the initial “call” and experience with St. Ignatius, I lost my beloved husband of 38 years – Michael. Ours was truly a sacramental marriage, and we both helped each other to grow in faith, knowledge and wisdom. We each served the Church in different ways, but always somehow together. We had four children, and we prayed for them and our grandchildren often. We prayed for each other here on earth, as we now continue to pray for each other until we meet again. His death was sudden and unexpected. I was with him at the time – a privilege that I didn’t really appreciate until later. What God had made “one” in marriage, left me shattered and broken. But again, God entered into my brokenness and brought light and hope.  That hope was Hope’s Garden.

I met with Laura Ercolino just a few short months after my husband’s death. Laura wanted to see how I was doing, and she gently brought me into the family of Hope’s Garden. Up until then, I mistakenly thought that Hope’s Garden was only for women who were in abusive situations. I soon began to realize how wrong I was. I don’t know where I would have been without Laura’s intervention and the Hope’s Garden community. Until then, I think I was just waiting for God to take me home to heaven, too, but now the Bridegroom began to beckon more insistently. I had heard the analogy of God as Bridegroom and the Church as his Bride, but I hadn’t really paid attention to it. Now it was like a balm to my heart and soul, and I wanted to hear more. 

Sharing our story is an important part of our healing. I found this to be so in grieving my husband’s death. Within seven months of losing my husband, I found myself the guest speaker at our parish’s Theology of the Body Dinner Date Night (for couples!!)  My spiritual director had suggested that I be the speaker for this event, and when I protested to my pastor, he agreed. So, I found great healing in preparing and giving these talks about love, its challenges, and how to stay anchored in Christ. I spoke about the “happily ever after” that we all yearn for from the first story we ever heard of princesses, princes and knights in shining armor, and that the real “happily ever after” is not of this world. That same month I started a grief group at Laura’s suggestion. We called it “Morning Glories – From Grief to Hope.” My broken heart continues to heal as I open to the healing touch of the Bridegroom.

The particular calling to Hope’s Garden Home came a couple years later.

Stay tuned for Part 2…

Copyright 2026 – Joni Smith