Novelist, former radio producer, and speaker Cynthia Ruchti has endured her husband’s job loss, become a full-time caregiver, and seen someone she loves incarcerated. In Ragged Hope: Surviving the Fallout of Other People’s Choices (Abingdon Press, July), Ruchti writes about her own experiences and tells the stories of people she’s met over the years, whose lives also were changed by the damaging choices of others. She responded to PW’s questions via e-mail.
What experiences led you to write this book?
Every story is from someone I care about, live near, live with, see in church on Sunday, or have come in contact with through years of writing and speaking. Each one has had a profound effect on my life. I know these heart-wrenching stories aren’t unique to my neighborhood--they could as easily come from anyone’s circle of friends and family. And the weight is especially heavy for those who are slogging through the fallout of life-altering decisions or mistakes others made. Their courageous acts, their right choices in the light of the wrong things done to them, or the messes they’re forced to clean up, don’t make the headlines. We may be conscious of their needs when the crisis first hits, but then we get back to our own concerns and they’re left to battle on alone. The book addresses both the survivor—spotlighting the evidence of hope in their lives--and the person who cares, but isn’t sure how to help. I’ve been both.
In what ways have you seen God's fingerprints on the experiences you describe that prove there is hope even in the worst situations?
In some cases, the crisis passes. An injury heals. A child finds a home and a place to belong. Restitution is made or God brings about a radical turn-around within the heart of the survivor or the one whose decision caused all the trouble. But what’s even more beautiful are the evidences of peace or courage or serenity or noble choices that show up while the crisis is still in full bloom. God’s fingerprints show up in grandparents singing sweet lullabies to a grandchild they’ve had to raise as their own, in the sacrifices a caregiver makes, in a prisoner forgiven, in the note that arrives in the mail when we most need it, or the phone call that comes when we feel at the edge of that day’s allotment of sanity. Hope shows up in a Scripture verse that seems tailor-made for the heaviness on our heart or that helps us refocus on what’s important and what is best ignored. Right there, in the ash heap of the fallout, hope is born.
What are some of the threads that run between your fiction work and this book?
I tell stories of “hope-that-glows-in-the-dark.” No matter what the venue or the genre, hope that shines all the more brightly against a dark backdrop works its way into everything I write. An example of that is the connection between my recent novel, When the Morning Glory Blooms (Abingdon Press, April) which follows the heart journeys of three women from three eras dealing with the aftershocks of unwed pregnancy, and my new book, Ragged Hope. Both address real-life issues with what I pray is seen as a tender, grace-filled, hope-laced approach.
