hot pink cherry chip cake.

I walked into the kitchen this morning and found a cherry chip cake covered in hot pink icing and sprinkles. Just for me. Cherry chip cake is my most favorite kind of cake. It tastes nothing like cherries, but instead has a yummy almond/vanilla flavor. 
I ate some. and as I ate some, I tried not to cry. 
Today marks one year. 
365 days ago I took everything out of my childhood room and moved it into a new room. A room with navy blue chevron curtains and hand-sewn pillows. A room smothered in grace and a room welcoming my mess. It was a big mess. 
Let me back up and invite you into a piece of the story that isn't super fun to tell. The piece before the grace-room and victory cries. 
The childhood piece. 
My childhood was hard. It was really hard. 
It was filled with mental illness, lies, abuse, and a whole of pretending. 
I was an expert at pretending. An expert on the stage (as I filled my school days with performing arts) and off. A handful of people knew the truth, a good sum of people denied the truth, and countless people were kept in the dark regarding the truth. 
A year and a half ago, stability went from bad to worse and I knew I needed to get out. I was one test (literally. one test.) away from failing out of nursing school, and the bondage threatening to shackle my soul was almost too much to handle. almost. 
I discreetly began to house hunt. I looked into apartments and room rentals, guest houses and even permanent sleepovers at friend's houses. One by one, doors were closed. Discouragement set in and I attempted to battle it by begging for peace as I realized my lot in life was smaller and more glim than I ever would've imagined. 
Then I got a text message. It said, "We have a room for you and you are welcome to live here." 
I responded in shock, and quickly made plans to meet with them. I wept as Paul and Erin very delicately told me that it was time to learn love. 
And so began the last 365 days. of learning love. 
I had NO idea how to respond to love. I didn't know how to react when a mom wanted to hug me every chance she got, or a father wanted to know when I was going to be home at night. I didn't know that it was normal for a mom to ask about your day and actually listen to the response, and I didn't know it was normal for a father to give good, sound advice. I didn't know how to accept help and I didn't know how to say "I love you" in response to parental figures. I just didn't know. 
I didn't know how to be a daughter. 
So I learned the past year. and I continue to learn today. 
I look back at the last 12 months, and I just smile. So much progress, so much growth. 
I discovered new areas in my life that Jesus wanted to stretch and grow and blossom. I discovered healthy ways of dealing with fear and being out of my comfort zone. I discovered how to appropriately handle conflict and how to communicate more effectively. I discovered that holidays can be fun and it's normal and right to look forward to vacations with family. But most of all, I discovered just how loved I am. 
Of course, I always knew the Father loved me. But to be in an environment where that perfect Father love is embodied, where there is safety, and the Spirit of God- well, it's just unlike anything else I've ever experienced. 
I love my home and my life. I look back, and I can't believe how much life was injected into my soul in one little year. Like the defibrillator was placed on my family-aching heart and got a much needed jolt. I found my heartbeat again. 
A heartbeat that chases after truth, clings to family, and believes in the beauty of orphans coming home. 
I sit here looking at my hot pink slice of cake, and I know. beyond a shadow of a doubt: nothing is wasted. nothing. I love looking at the landscape of my 22 years and knowing that Jesus will use every failure, every success, every crooked path, and every obstacle for His glory. 
He promises to wipe tears from our eyes. 
He will turn our sorrow into rejoicing and weeping into dancing. 
He will comfort us with His rod and staff in the valley of the shadow of death. 
and He will use every bit of it for our good. 
He will waste nothing. 
Hope fuels the soul to impossible places, and that's exactly where hope took me this year. To impossible places. 
Thankful doesn't even begin to describe my heart today. 
I'm thankful for patient parents and belonging. 
I'm thankful for the bedroom down the hall that housed so much healing. 
and I'm thankful for hot pink cherry chip cake.