I was just five years old when I first came to the conclusion that I lived in the nastiest house on the block. The porch had pulled away from the brick structure it should have been attached to, and birds had nested in the crevice.  As you can guess, the wall was covered with bird droppings. I found it to be disgusting and embarrassing. Mom kept an exceptionally clean house, but that did not help the outside appearance.

I came from a large family, and we struggled to make ends meet. My siblings, who were already teenagers when I was born, wanted a better life for me than they had had. They pooled their money and sent me to a private school. This would have been wonderful if we had the money to support the lifestyle, but that wasn’t the way it was. I was a poor girl thrown in with the wealthiest children in the city. This made me feel so insecure and self-conscience. When I visited their homes, I was even more embarrassed about my own.

Over the years, these feelings never left me.  I made up my mind that someday I would have a beautiful home. This became a priority in my life that I refused to let go of.

The first home my husband and I purchased was nice enough, but there were about four hundred exactly like it in the same community. The neighborhood was made up of young couples with children. Our home was the gathering place. Friends and neighbors were always dropping in for coffee and chats that often turned into impromptu dinners, and barbecues.

There was an abundance of children for mine to play with. Life was good. However, my dream still haunted me, and I was determined it would be fulfilled while we were still young enough to enjoy my beautiful dream home with our children.

On one of our outings to the countryside just beyond the city we lived in, we discovered land for sale at a price that was beyond reasonable. We purchased a half-acre plot and now I was one step closer to having my dream fulfilled.

It took five years before we were able to build, but at last, we were the proud owners of a beautiful home in the country. Dreams may come true, but their fulfillment isn’t always what we thought or hoped they would be. Our old friends no longer visited and there were few children for mine to play with. The quiet country road we lived on turned out to be a link between two main roads that led to a major highway. It was a beautiful setting, but a dangerous playground for my children.  All in all, my dream was becoming a nightmare.

Happy days became problem days to the point of a pending divorce. It was at this point my husband and I found a true relationship with Jesus. My dream of long ago, even though fulfilled, faded into reality; only Jesus truly satisfies. Through Him, I found real happiness wasn’t in achieving worldly desires, for no one or nothing can bring true fulfillment. That can only be found in Jesus. He has given me not a dream, but a promise; it’s of a home that He has gone to prepare for me; a home that is more beautiful than anything I could ever hope, dream, or desire for myself. I am so looking forward to it, for true happiness and fulfillment await me there.