It’s been a struggle to find time to write. And I’m not making excuses. I can definitely make time but I just don’t have the energy to do so. I knew once we became official foster parents the dynamics of my home would change. I also knew any child in the home would take up a lot of my time. I just never realized a five month old baby would suck all my energy then laugh as I have droopy eyes, running on fumes trying to get him to sleep whilst he is wide awake at 11pm at night. That is my warning of parenthood for those who needed it.I wasn’t able to do my February series post on For the Love of so it’s fitting that the month of March focused a lot on chances. Second chances. Taking chances. Chances.
The beginning of the month saw me supporting a meeting of a mother and her baby son. While the continuous support is a little rocky I won’t allow my emotions to get in the way of what is “right.” The chance for them to bond is important and so I travel to and from praying that God calms my aching heart all so their hearts can grow together. Chances.
March saw me having the hard conversations with people. Taking the chance to put myself out there. The chance to lay it out on the table to be real, honest, myself. Conversations that may not mean anything or may mean the world. As long as I took the chance to find a way to start fresh, to forgive or to forget. I took the chance of not knowing what would happen in order to close doors, open windows, begin a new chapter. Chances.
March taught me to remember my past and be reminded of the second chance I got for the future I’ve always wanted. The chance to be happy and to be loved. The chance to seek forgiveness and be forgiven. The chance to remember, not that there was a doubt, that my life was not a life until I decided I needed God more than anything else.
And tomorrow, as we usher in a new month and celebrate the resurrection of Jesus I’m reminded of the biggest chance I could ever be given. A chance of redemption. A chance to know that my sins are forgiven and that no matter how awful I am I have the chance to be better. Even if I’m not given a promise of tomorrow I know thanks to the blood shed on the cross, today I have the chance to be better, feel better, love better, think better, speak better.
I was reminded in March that no matter what warred in my heart, no matter what circumstance I faced, the same God that made a way last time would make a way this time. A way that would allow me the chance to flourish into the woman I need to be to love God, love my husband and love my family. My past has brought me lessons. My future will bring me amazing stories. And my God, He sees me fall and gives me the chance to start again.
For the love of self I’ve learned that though I fall, I rise again.