Disappointments have such a way of turning into blessings at the feet of my savior. Several months ago my heart was crushed by disappointment that I would not be allowed to do foster care, or to adopt a child out of the foster care system. My heart did not ache to specifically be called ‘mother’, but to pay forward what I have been given. In a world full of people with indescribable need I have been unfairly blessed and my heart yearns to bring some of my opportunities to others.

In an unfolding of events that are several stories, none of which are mine to tell, I now find my house busting at the seems. When God gifted me this house I asked him to use it for his glory, and I am so thankful to be able to participate in seeing what God is doing. The chalk wall I recently thought had turned out to be a silly dream became used by children I had not expected.

I love the life that is living in my house. The dreams and the determination that are taking shelter under this roof. I am so thankful for the dear friends who provided housing for me through the years of my addiction and recovery. Some are people I speak with regularly, others have been lost as consequence of my mistakes, but each provided important safety from a storm.

I do not know how the story will continue to unfold, or what challenges still lie ahead, but I sit here in this moment so thankful for my God. Who else can take the piles of s*%t I have created and work them into the soil to actually produce even better outcomes than I could have ever made if not for the misery of the mess!

I certainly do not want to encourage trying to make life messy, as the scars are permanent and it only takes a second for the outcome to become deadly. But in the inescapable messes that life hands me, my perception of them, and how I surrender them make great difference in the eventual outcome of the fruit.