Every Friday, a small room in a small church on the outskirts of Atlanta becomes a gathering place for the ends of the earth. Over scattered beads, tools and tangled threads, artisans from foreign nations pray together, filling the room with the sounds of Nepali, Burmese, Arabic and English. “It feels like heaven,” they agree.

The artisans of Refugee Beads come from camps and villages in some of the world’s most dangerous places. All are Christians who minister to their own people groups while struggling to find dignity, grow spiritually and support their families in this strange new country.

Refugee Beads started in 2009 when Ian and his wife, Ruth Ann, relocated from Chicago to Atlanta, to live and minster among immigrants and refugees. They moved down without any real plan except to discover and meet needs in the name of Christ.

Before long, Ruth Ann began meeting Christians in those same refugee communities who had inspiring faith, tremendous skill and breathtaking stories. Many were actively ministering to their own people groups while struggling to make ends meet.

Ruth Ann herself used to create and sell jewelry on the street in Chicago’s Wicker Park neighborhood. And that gave her an idea. She initially invited five women to form an artisan community that would share stories and sell jewelry.

“They need help navigating a confusing culture, connecting with the people around them and supporting their families,” Ruth Ann says. “And American churches need the global perspective and stories that these women offer. Refugee Beads was created as a way for both groups to minister to one another.”

While Refugee Beads was growing and finding its place, an EFCA congregation called Open Table Community moved into the heart of this same area—known as the “International Village” because of the massive concentration of people groups from around the world. (Read about the church’s radical decision here.)

Ruth Ann had attended Open Table even before its move into the community. When she suggested a partnership between the church and the ministry, Open Table embraced the idea. Refugee Beads joined the church’s other partner ministries, which included a bike co-op, a local afterschool program and English as a Second Language classes.

“The first time one of the women shared at our church, she told about literally losing everything to follow Christ,” says Tim Isaacson, then-pastor of Open Table. “A young man stood up afterward and confessed to the whole congregation, ‘I wonder sometimes if I’ve ever really known Christ in my life.’

“The artisans of Refugee Beads take our hearts deeper into the gospel.”

Refugee Beads now interacts with numerous churches across the country through speaking, providing wholesale jewelry for fundraisers and hosting “Village Gatherings.” For these events, American women open their homes or churches and invite church groups or other friends. The women of Refugee Beads visit, telling stories, sharing a meal, and selling handmade jewelry to support their families and ministries.

Thanks to Open Table Community, Refugee Beads has a home, several volunteers and a loving community in which to grow. And Open Table members have a chance to see the kingdom of heaven take on new meaning as they connect with the ends of the earth in their own neighborhood.

With three locations in the metro Atlanta area, Communicycle is a non-profit bicycle co-op that unites people with a love for two-wheeled transportation and the communities they live in.  They run three shops where they serve people by providing free bicycle maintenance services and education while building relationships with everyone who walks through their doors.

You turn on the T.V and what appears to be tornadoes sweeping up houses and cars on a discovery channel episode, can sometimes affect you indirectly, thus there really isn’t any emotional impulse involved. But in all honestly, it really isn’t your fault, they say the chances of you being part of a catastrophe caused by a tornado is slim, very slim. This is how i was, just like everyone else i spent most of my time viewing tragedies around the world on T.V, that didn’t really trigger any sympathy or even pain for those who were involved in the trauma, it had become second nature.

Now, if you were a part of the community in a small town called Ringgold, Georgia, the first few sentences don’t apply to you. The tragedy is real, visible and probably has shocked and maybe even affected your family directly. 27th of April 2011, a tornado touched down in this small town, killing 8 people, injuring 30 and evacuating 125 people to a nearby school.

Figuratively, the numbers are not colossal, so minute in-fact that compared to the losses to large scale disasters, genocides or even other natural catastrophes that shed millions of lives, this isn’t really headline news.

But at Creative Hope, we’re not looking to cover stories that matter most or affect people on a large scale basis, but we’re here to talk about Hope, Hope of recovery, unity and rebuilding something from the dust, the longing for something beautiful in the midst of destruction and hopelessness.

The town was busy, hectic and people were moving pretty quickly for a small town. It was a good sign. It felt as thought everyone was united in hands, working in unison to renovate the town. Signs of volunteers were marked visibly, if there was a house that needed a new roof, there were 2-3 volunteers working on it simultaneously. Some homes that were destroyed entirely were rebuilt from ground up.

Even though everything seemed to be moving quickly, the large-scale chaos the tornado had caused could steer the remaining projects to another extensive few months. But honestly, buildings can be rebuilt and schools can resume, but how quickly can those who have been affected emotionally by this disaster can get back on their feet and find true Hope?

Even though we didn’t participate greatly in helping the town recover, we were probably the only crew that came to this town for a different reason. Reading through magazines and online news articles only mentions the tragedies and the habitual facts, none of them mentioning the hard work other organizations were putting out to help this town, or even the inspirational stories the people who lived there had to share.

Our trip was short and powerless, but we witnessed a small town that came together to rebuild their losses, whether physical or emotional. Tragedies happen very often nowadays and people are starting to lose Hope and may feel crippled by its effects, but our trip to Ringgold displayed true grit in the midst of hopelessness and we are hoping this example can bring courage to those who have none left.

As one of Creative Hope’s initial projects, {HEART JAPAN} was born when four creatives decided to use their gifts and talents to respond to the Earthquake and Tsunami in Japan.  Our hearts were broken when we saw the news, but we weren’t sure how to respond at first.  The amount of need seemed overwhelming.  If there’s one thing that stuck with me though was this message from a northpoint sermon:  With all the issues in the world and even locally, it can get overwhelming with all the things you can’t do anything about.  But you can do for one what you wish you could do for everyone.

The first effort was through a friend, Jocelyn, and the Fu who organized a benefit together outside of Caribou Coffee.  We were surprised with people’s love and generosity of those who showed up and even those who were passing through. Afterward, we decided to pull together local talent and local businesses in Atlanta to throw a second benefit and charity auction in order to raise money for Japan. Throughout the process, creatives from other cities on the west coast contacted us to get involved and organized fundraisers and benefits as well.  Our goal was to raise $5000, which we exceeded by raising $9825, but our primary goal was to empower people to use their passions, talents, and gifts to give others hope.  In response to the disaster in Japan, {HEART JAPAN} became a community effort, where artists and  businesses from Atlanta, San Francisco, and Los Angeles came together to make a difference.