Hope Manor - Sober Living Homes

10/09/2026

🎲 GAME NIGHT IS TONIGHT! 🎮

Join us at The Hub for a fun Friday night with friends, laughs, and good company!

📅 Friday, October 9th
🕕 6 p.m. – 9 p.m.
📍 The Hub, 321 South First Street

We'll have board games, card games, and PS5/video games, plus some snacks. Feel free to bring a snack to share! Whether you come to compete or just to hang out, we'd love to see you.

Nothing else going on tonight? Come play, laugh, and hang out with us!

10/09/2026

National Recovery Month Extended - From "Pour Me" to "Pour Into Me": Gabe Found a Home Worth Staying For
�Recovery Month may be behind us, but the stories keep coming. Today we're honored to share from Gabe, one of our current participants. Take a look at the two photos. On the left, a guy weighed down by the cycle he couldn't break. On the right, a smile, a ball cap, and an 801 shirt worn with pride. Addiction rarely announces itself as destructive. It often shows up looking like connection, then quietly takes over everything it promised. Gabe's story shows what happens when a person stops digging alone and finds a community that shows him what real connection looks like.

"My addiction started as a means to connect with the people around me, before fully taking control of my life. Once I realized that the drinks and the drugs were enough to replace the connections I had made, the next few years began, in which I pushed everyone away and fell into a vicious cycle of 'pour me.' I knew I was digging a hole, but I had no solution or any idea of where to start. I would tell myself, 'This is it, this is the last time,' only to pick it up minutes later and question my strength.

In the program of recovery I live today, I've found that when I live on my own will, I always fall short. Instead, my higher power lives through me and gives me strength throughout my day. My new Hope Manor family has shown me what true connection looks like, and I am beyond grateful to have found the place I call home today! 😀"
�Gabe's story is a reminder that isolation is where addiction thrives and connection is where recovery grows. At Hope Manor, no one has to figure out where to start by themselves. We walk it together, one day at a time. If you or someone you love is stuck in that cycle, we'd love to be your starting point. Reach out. There's a seat at our table and a place to call home.
�

10/08/2026

📢 Schedule Update: Budgeting Review

Unfortunately, tonight's Budgeting Review session at The Hub (October 8, 5:30–6:30 p.m.) has to be rescheduled. We're sorry for any inconvenience!

We'll announce the new date in a few days, so please watch this page for updates. Thank you for your understanding, and we hope to see you at the rescheduled session! 💙

10/08/2026

National Recovery Month Extended - I Never Forgot Her: The Proof Hope Manor Planted So Recovery Took Root

Not every recovery story moves in a straight line, and at Hope Manor we wouldn't pretend otherwise. Today's story comes from our alumna Serena. She found structure, community, and her first real taste of peace here. Then life took her down a different road. What she carried out our doors proved recovery is real, and years later, that proof helped bring her back.

"Before Hope Manor, alcohol had slowly taken over my life. It wasn't fun anymore. I wasn't drinking because I was having a good time. I was drinking because I didn't know how to be comfortable in my own skin. I had become so dependent on alcohol and on other people to make me feel okay that I didn't really know who I was without either one.

By the time I came to Hope Manor, my life had gotten bad enough that when I interviewed for a bed, I was told, essentially, that this was life or death. There was normally a waiting list, but if I could be there when a bed opened, it was mine.

Hope Manor gave me something I didn't even know I was looking for. It wasn't just a roof over my head or rules to follow. It gave me structure when my life had been chaos, accountability when I couldn't yet hold myself accountable, and a community of women who showed me what recovery actually looked like.

At first it was the little things. Making my bed. Doing my chores. Going to meetings. Working through the phases. Signing in and out. Learning to be responsible for where I was and what I was doing. And somewhere in the middle of all of that, something started changing in me.

I remember checking my phone one day and realizing someone I had been completely obsessed with had called me, and I hadn't even known. For once, I hadn't spent my entire day worrying about another person. I had just been living. I laughed with the girls, went to Taco Bell, took drives, and enjoyed stupid little things again. I had forgotten people could actually enjoy dinner, coffee, a movie, or a drive without alcohol.

For the first time in a very long time, I felt like I could breathe.

Hope Manor was also the first place I really experienced the unity of women in recovery. I watched women live sober lives that were real. Not perfect, not rainbows and butterflies, but genuinely good. They still had problems. Life still happened. But they were sober, they laughed, they showed up for each other, and they were okay.

I didn't believe I could ever have what they had. But I believed them. And that distinction ended up mattering more than I could have known.

I wish I could say I left Hope Manor and never drank again. That's not my story.

I relapsed. I went through more treatment. I spent years trying and failing to hold onto sobriety. At one point, I wanted so badly to become the person I had glimpsed at Hope Manor that I thought becoming a mother would finally fix me. I thought if I had a child I loved enough, surely that would be enough to make me stop drinking.

I loved my son more than anything in this world.

And addiction was still addiction.

Becoming a mother didn't cure me. Eventually alcohol took things from me that I never imagined I would allow it to take, including being able to be the mother I wanted to be. There is a special kind of pain in loving your child with everything you have and realizing that love alone still isn't enough to make you sober.

But somewhere underneath all of those years, Hope Manor had left something in me.

Proof.

I had seen recovery. I knew it existed. I had watched women live it. I had experienced just enough of it myself to remember what it felt like to laugh without drinking, to belong somewhere, and to feel okay inside my own skin. Even when I couldn't believe that I could recover, I knew recovery itself was real.

Eventually I became willing to try again. Providence House became an enormous part of my story and helped me build the recovery I have today, but I don't know I would have had the willingness to walk through that door and try one more time if Hope Manor hadn't shown me years earlier that something was worth fighting for.

Today, my life doesn't look anything like the life I was living then. I get to be a mom. I get to work. I get to show up for people. I get to have relationships with people I love. I have responsibilities, routines, bills, hard days, exhausting days, and all the normal things I once couldn't handle without drinking. Recovery hasn't given me a perfect life. It has given me a life that I actually get to live.

And the craziest part is that the peace I caught tiny glimpses of at Hope Manor, the feeling that maybe someday I could be okay, isn't just a glimpse anymore.

I am okay.

Hope Manor didn't magically fix me, and my story didn't end when I walked out its doors. What it did was give me hope before I knew how to have hope for myself. It showed me the version of me I might someday become.

I never forgot her.

And today, I finally get to be her."

Recovery doesn't always happen on a straight trajectory, and that's okay. Our job is to show people what's possible, and to keep showing them until they believe it for themselves. Every chore completed, every meeting attended, every connection made, every shared laugh, every drive with housemates is a seed, and we may never see when one takes root. But it doesn’t matter that we see it; what matters is that the seed begins to sprout. If you're searching for that first glimpse of peace, or you know someone who is, Hope Manor is here for you. Come see what recovery really looks like.

10/07/2026

National Recovery Month Extended - From Looking for His Car to Finding His Peace

Recovery doesn't always begin with a grand decision. Sometimes it begins with a man walking into our office barefoot, in rough shape, with no plan beyond getting his car out of impound. Today we're honored to share the story of one of our alums, John, whose road to Hope Manor was anything but smooth, and whose willingness to stay, even when he didn't plan to, changed the course of his life. Here is his story:

"Drinking started as a normal thing to do. You work hard, you play hard. But over the decades, it became clear I didn't drink like other people. I lost jobs. I struggled to be there for my kids the way I wanted to. And no matter how many times I promised myself I'd stay away from the bottle, it never happened.

A friend told me about a place called Hope Manor. I applied and had a phone interview, and the woman on the other end asked far too many questions. I remember thinking, what does all of this have to do with staying sober?

I'm not entirely sure what possessed me to go. I certainly wasn't planning on staying, and I'm not even sure I was planning on staying sober. I drove to Bismarck the night before I was supposed to move in and figured I may as well have a few drinks, since I likely wouldn't for a while. I stopped at a liquor store and, like any good alcoholic, got started in my car. The next thing I knew, a police officer was tapping on my window.

When I was released the next day, I made my way to the Hope Manor office, barefoot and in rough shape. Maybe it was because my car was impounded and I didn't know what to do. Maybe it was because I wasn't familiar with Bismarck and didn't know where else to go. Either way, that's where I went. I decided I'd stay just long enough to get my car out of impound.

But something happened. Even though I believed they couldn't do anything for me, I started arguing the rules a little less. I started participating more. A few days in, I was packed into a van with the other guys for the annual men's retreat, and I hid out in the kitchen, the one place I felt useful. The guys saw right through it and welcomed me anyway. I began to realize Hope Manor wasn't out to get me, and maybe they actually had something to offer.

I ended up staying 15 months. Somewhere along the way, I developed a faith that had long ago left me. The kitchen became the place where I found my peace, and cooking became my way of giving back. I would often prepare meals for the director and administrator, as they never seemed to feed themselves properly. It was one way I could show my gratitude. I walked in looking for my car. I found something a whole lot better."

John's story is a reminder that recovery doesn't require a perfect start, only an open door and people who will keep it open. At Hope Manor, we meet people exactly where they are, whether that's ready, reluctant, or running on nothing but a day's worth of stubbornness. Through structure, community, and a table that always has room for one more, we walk alongside men and women as they rebuild their lives. If you or someone you love is searching for a place to begin, we'd love to welcome you home.

10/06/2026

National Recovery Month Extended - Not Just Staying Clean, But Learning How to Truly Live

Recovery doesn't begin and end with putting the substances down. It's about learning how to live, and that takes time, people, and a place that holds you accountable and loves you through it. Today's story comes from one of our alums, Jenna, who spent 18 months at Hope Manor building the foundation for the life she lives today. Her journey began on the hardest day imaginable, and it shows what it looks like when a community stands beside someone in their pain instead of leaving them to face it alone. Here is her story:

"When I look back at my life before recovery and compare it to the life I have today, sometimes it is hard to believe I am the same person. By law, I should be in prison; by all means, I should be dead, but by the grace of God, I am here today.

My addiction took me to places I never thought I would go. Somewhere along the way, I lost myself. Drugs became more important than everything else, and my life became something I was surviving instead of actually living. When I finally came into recovery, I had a lot more to learn than just how to stop using drugs. I had to learn how to live clean.

Hope Manor became a huge part of that journey. I lived there for 18 months, and during that time I started building the foundation for the life I have today. Hope Manor taught me accountability, structure, responsibility, and how important it is to have people around me who understand recovery. It wasn't always comfortable, and there were times when I didn't like being held accountable, but today I understand why I needed it.

My journey at Hope Manor began with one of the hardest things I have ever been through. The very first day I arrived at Hope Manor, my father passed away. I was beginning this completely new chapter of my life while at the same time grieving the loss of my dad. Looking back, I am so grateful that I was at Hope Manor when it happened. I didn't have to go through that grief alone. The people there stood by my side, supported me, and allowed me to grieve while continuing to move forward in my recovery.

That experience also began teaching me something that would become extremely important in my recovery: I could go through painful things without picking up drugs.

For so much of my life, using was how I dealt with things. If something hurt, if life became overwhelming, or if I didn't know how to handle what I was feeling, drugs were my escape. Recovery forced me to learn a completely different way.

I think one of the moments when I truly realized I was changing was when I went through what felt like a really bad situation, got through it, and realized I hadn't picked up drugs. The situation itself might not have changed, but I had. I was learning that just because life gets hard doesn't mean I have to run from it or use to cope with it. I could feel uncomfortable. I could be hurt, angry, scared, or overwhelmed, and still stay clean.

One of the biggest things recovery has taught me is that I cannot do this alone. For a long time, I thought I could handle everything myself. Today I know that when I isolate and keep everything inside, I can get myself into trouble. I have learned to reach out to my mentor, talk to people in recovery, work my program, go to meetings, and ask for help before things become overwhelming.

I have also developed a relationship with my Higher Power. I have had to learn to let go of things I cannot control and trust that God has a plan for my life. 'Let go and let God' isn't just something I say anymore. It is something I try to practice in my everyday life. Recovery has taught me to stop, pause, think, and not react to everything immediately.

Today, I also have the privilege of mentoring other people in recovery. I get to share what was freely given to me and be there for someone else the way people were there for me. I understand now why people shared their experiences with me when I was struggling. Sometimes hearing someone else say, 'I've been there too,' is exactly what a person needs to keep going.

My life today isn't perfect, and neither is my recovery. I still have difficult days. I still have things I need to work on. The difference is that today I have tools, people, faith, and a program to turn to instead of drugs. I work my recovery to the best of my ability every day because I know what is at stake.

Hope Manor was more than just a place for me to stay clean. It was part of learning how to live clean. Those 18 months helped give me the foundation I needed to become the person I am today. Hope Manor was there for me during one of the most painful moments of my life, but it was also there while I started discovering that I was stronger than I thought I was.

I am no longer just trying to survive. I am building a life that I don't want to escape from. I have found purpose in things I once thought were only pain. I get to help other people. I get to continue growing. Most importantly, I get another chance at life.

There was a time when I couldn't imagine the future I have today. Now I know that change is possible because I am living proof of it. My story isn't finished. I am still learning, still growing, still working my program, and still becoming the person God intended me to be."

Jenna's story reminds us that recovery isn't a finish line. It's a way of learning to live, one day, one connection, and one hard moment at a time. At Hope Manor, we get to walk beside people on their very first day, even on the hardest ones, and stay with them while they discover how strong they truly are. And now Jenna turns around and does the same for others. That is the ripple effect of recovery. If you or someone you love is ready to stop surviving and start living, Hope Manor is here. You don't have to do this alone. 💜

10/06/2026

This Thursday!!

Money can be stressful, but a simple plan can make a big difference.

Hope Manor Foundation is proud to partner with the Bank of North Dakota to bring Smart with My Money financial literacy workshops to our community, and everyone is welcome!

Join us for our next session, a focused Budgeting Review of key tips and techniques from our previous workshop. Refresh your knowledge, strengthen your budgeting skills, and walk away with practical strategies to support your financial goals.

📅 Thursday, October 8, 2026
🕠 5:30-6:30 p.m.
📍 The Hub (Large Room), 321 S. 1st St., Bismarck

Bring a friend, a family member, or a neighbor. Smart with My Money is a free, resource, and you can find more at SmartWithMyMoney.nd.gov.

We hope to see you there! 💚

10/05/2026

🎲🎮 GAME NIGHT at The Hub! 🎮🎲

Looking for something fun to do this Friday night? Organized by our participants and alumni, we invite you to join us for a night of games, laughter, and good company!

📅 Friday, October 9th
🕕 6 p.m. – 9 p.m.
📍 The Hub, 321 South First Street

We'll have plenty to play, from board games to PS5 and other video games. We'll have snacks on hand, and you're welcome to bring one to share, too!

Whether you come to compete, to laugh, or to enjoy some company, there's a seat for you. Bring your family, bring a friend, or come alone. Everyone in the community is welcome, and it's totally free!

Hope to see you there!

10/05/2026

National Recovery Month Extended - From Wandering the Streets to Welcoming Others Home: Bre's Story

We have too many amazing recovery stories to fit into one month, so we're extending National Recovery Month into October! These stories from our participants and alumni remind us that recovery is possible, and that hope is worth sharing all year long. Today's story begins with a scared young woman who was ready to do whatever it took, and a simple "welcome home" on her first day. That welcome, the support of her housemates, and a willingness to work a program of recovery changed the direction of her life. She went on to become an assistant house leader, welcoming other women the way she had been welcomed. She brings a light to our family that shines so incredibly bright. Without her love and support many women would not be striving to be their best selves. This is what recovery looks like when it is lived out loud. Here is Bre's story.

"I started using drugs and alcohol when I was 14. It started as trying to fit in and "having fun," then quickly became an every-weekend thing. I was still able to show up for school and work, so I didn't see it as a problem, but as the years went on, things progressed.

When I was 17, I was in a relationship that was abusive both mentally and physically, and I ended up pregnant. When I was 18, I lost that baby due to a genetic defect. I finally left that relationship, but I had really lost myself through the abuse and the loss of my pregnancy, and I dove headfirst into my addiction. Things went downhill fast. Within a couple of years, I totaled four vehicles, became unemployable, and as a result lost my home. From there I wandered the streets, stealing to support my habit and beginning the cycle of being in and out of jail. This went on for four years until I finally landed myself a prison sentence.

While sitting in jail, I was told about treatment court. I was told it was a chance to get rid of my charges and try to find a better way of life. I decided to give it a try. I was sick of living the way I was living, and I knew there was more to this life. I signed up and waited to see if I was accepted, and lo and behold, I was! I was later let out to treatment court and was in-center. After my first court date, they told me I needed to think about sober living and suggested Hope Manor. I was scared, but I was determined to do whatever they said because I knew my way wasn't working, and I signed up!

I remember my first day there, the assistant house manager welcomed me home. All of the girls at the house were so warm and welcoming, always right there to help me go to meetings, apply for jobs, or just be there when I needed that extra support.

As time went on, life started looking way better. I started working a program as required by Hope Manor. I started taking a look within, getting rid of the garbage, the excuses, and the things that blocked me from the sun. I started making amends. I learned that none of the "bad things" that happened to me are what make me an alcoholic or an addict. Those were the consequences of my untreated addiction and alcoholism. Through this program I learned I couldn't be cured, but I could treat my disease by working this program of recovery and being of service.

My family started to see these changes, and I was someone they could trust again. Sobriety wasn't something I was unsure about anymore; I wouldn't have it any other way. I am grateful for Hope Manor for that. Something that seemed so far out of reach, even impossible, was now something I couldn't see myself without. Life was looking better. I became self-supporting, and I was able to get my license back.

Then Hope Manor asked me if I would be of service as an assistant house leader. I said yes! That is when I felt the true reward of being of service: being able to welcome other girls home, just like I was.

I stayed at Hope Manor for two years, and I moved out in July of 2025 with my amazing fiancée, who I met in recovery. A couple of months after we moved out, our beautiful daughter made her arrival into this world.

Because treatment court took a chance on me and Hope Manor helped me find a new way to live, I’ve been clean and sober since May 16, 2023. I have a beautiful life and all of this led me to my loving Higher Power. Today I am a mother, a daughter, a sister, a fiancée, an employee, and more. All because of my recovery."

Bre's story reminds us that recovery is built one welcome, one act of service, and one day at a time. The woman who once felt scared and out of options is now a mother, a partner, and a trusted member of her family and community. All because she took one step towards something better. At Hope Manor, we believe in giving people a safe place to land, the truth about recovery, and a community that stays beside them until they can stand on their own. If you or someone you love is ready for a new way to live, we are ready to welcome you home.

10/04/2026

Two Years Free: Clifton's Story

At Hope Manor, we measure success one day at a time, and today we're celebrating a big one. Clifton just hit two years of sobriety, and we couldn't be happier for him.

Clifton has one of the biggest hearts we have ever seen. He came to us a bit hot-headed, and he has grown into an even keel and a source of stability and strength in our house. Today he is a house leader, and he does it without pay. He serves because he loves the men he lives with and wants to see them succeed. His kindness, his heart of service, and his thoughtfulness amaze me every day. He is the first to offer help and the first to lead by example. Clifton is a gift to all of us.

Here is his story, in his own words:

"Two years ago, I never would have imagined I'd be where I am today: sober, happy, and free from the bo***ge of self.

This wasn't my first attempt at getting sober, but it is the first time I actually worked a program and built a life within a recovery community. The last time I tried, I did it all on my own, and it almost killed me. Back then, I didn't understand the difference between just stopping the drugs and truly living in recovery.

I owe so much gratitude to Hope Manor for introducing me to the 12 steps, because that was my ticket to finding genuine peace and happiness. Today, I get to freely give back what was so generously given to me, watching other people's lives transform right before my eyes. I am deeply blessed to have been shown this way of life, and to finally have my own back."

Clifton, thank you for showing every man in our house, and all of us, what recovery looks like when it's lived out loud. Happy two years!

Recovery is possible, and it happens in community. If you or someone you love is struggling, Hope Manor is here. Reach out to us anytime.