We Are Not The American Dream


This is my β€œhalf” sister. We are separated by 25 years. We share a father, though people sometimes mistake her for my daughter.

She was unexpected, but will never be unloved. She came with a mother, and although I have one of my own, I’ve made room for them both… They come as a pair.

If time is the fabric of life, then she is the stitching that brought so many lives together.

She is little, but her arrival was large, and her existence, largely a part of what makes existing so interesting.

My family does not represent the quintessential American β€œdream” family. We are blended and we are beautiful. We are the face of what God can do when love is allowed to enter empty and broken hearts.

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