Hope can arrive as a whisper, but sometimes it comes as a sound that cuts through everything. For me, that sound was the shofar. Ten years ago, during the Feast of Trumpets, I heard the blast of a ram’s horn and something in me woke up. I had been living in what I can only call a spiritual desert. Dry. Distant. Tired. Not completely without belief, but without freshness. I knew enough about God to know I needed Him, yet I felt far from the nearness my soul was made for. Then