Advent Week One: The Hope Who Walks Behind Me

By Kim Mulholland – Grateful Journeys Photography

There are some stories that don’t just belong to a season — they belong to the heart. As Advent begins and the world enters its quiet weeks of waiting, I find myself reflecting on the one who has taught me more about Hope than any sermon, scripture, or sunrise ever could.

Her name is Hope.
And she quite literally walks behind me.

The Little One Left Unpicked

Nine years ago, when I brought her home, she was the last pup in her litter — unpicked, unnoticed, still waiting. I didn’t know it then, but she wasn’t waiting for just anyone.
She was waiting for me.

Choosing the name “Hope” felt simple at the time, like choosing a word I wanted more of in my life. It wasn’t until much later that I would understand how perfectly it fit her — and how much I would come to lean on that tiny word.

The One Who Never Leaves My Side

If you’ve ever walked a trail with us, you know this about her:
Hope is always right behind me.

Every hill, every winding path, every golden sunrise or snowy Montana morning — I turn to look, wondering where she is, and she is there. Always.

She doesn’t rush ahead.
She doesn’t wander.
She simply stays — steady, quiet, faithful.

And when she looks up at me with those warm brown eyes, they shimmer like little stars. A constellation that seems to say, “I’m here. Keep going.”

A Photograph Taken Before Everything Changed

One of my favorite photographs of us — the one you see here — was taken just three weeks before I was diagnosed with my brain tumor.
Three weeks before my world shifted.
Three weeks before the hardest chapter of my life began.

I look at that image now with a depth of gratitude that words can hardly hold.

Because when the journey became steep and frightening, Hope did what she had always done:
She walked right behind me.
Every day.
Every step.

Her presence became a living reminder of her name — not just a word, but a promise.

The Gift of Advent Hope

As we enter this first week of Advent, traditionally centered on Hope, I’m reminded of something tender and true:

Hope often arrives quietly.

Not in fireworks.
Not in grand gestures.
But in the stillness…

Just like Jesus did — not in a palace, not with fanfare, but in a manger in a humble stable, under a quiet sky.
Hope came softly then, and it still does now.

Sometimes Hope has warm fur and starry eyes.
Sometimes Hope shows up in the form of a dog who walks faithfully behind you on every trail.
Sometimes Hope prepares you long before you know why you’ll need it.

And sometimes Hope chooses you

A Light for the Path Ahead

The scripture guiding this week of Advent holds more meaning for me now than ever:

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” — Psalm 119:105

Hope doesn’t always illuminate the entire journey.
Sometimes it just lights the very next step.
Sometimes it follows right behind you — steady, gentle, and sure.

Thank You for Walking With Me

If this story resonates with you, I’d love to hear who or what has been a quiet source of Hope in your life.

May this Advent season meet you gently, and may Hope — in all the ways it shows up — walk right beside you.