This gallery is a time capsule—one that holds both grief and glory.

It captures the home we left behind after the divorce, a place once full of routines, memories, and quiet prayers. But what makes this moment sacred is who filled it: my kids, and the children of the single moms’ Bible study I leaned on when the weight felt too heavy.

That day, we sat on the back porch—moms in every stage of healing—speaking life over hard things, holding space for one another in the in-between. As we talked, I looked up and saw them—our kids, laughing in the same wheelbarrow we used to scoop horse poop (yes, really). They didn’t care. It was joy. It was play. It was freedom.

Then came the hay pile. Then the camera.
And I just tried to keep up—bottling the light that showed up in the middle of our mess.

We’ve all gone our separate ways now. Life has carried us down new roads.
But this?
This will always be a reminder that even when things fall apart—God sends beauty. He sends people. He sends joy.

This is what legacy looks like, too.