“When I was in high school, I got pregnant. And in my despair and shame, I told God I didn’t want the baby. A couple months later, I had a miscarriage and I was racked with guilt. I convinced myself that I’d somehow willed it to happen, and I began to believe God had turned away from me—who could blame Him after what I’d done?
“Years later, after getting married, having children and starting a charity that helps special needs children, I tried to put the past behind me and make up for my mistakes. I also prayed for God’s forgiveness and began going to church again…but that’s when the dreams started.
“In my dream, I was holding a little girl with blond hair and slate-gray eyes. I woke up crying each morning, certain that God was punishing me by showing me the daughter I could have had.
“One Sunday after church, I spotted a woman holding a little blond girl with slate-gray eyes—the exact child from my dream. I introduced myself, trying not to stare in disbelief. She mentioned they were new in town and her daughter had cerebral palsy. ‘We can’t afford the therapy she needs,’ the woman said sadly. Suddenly, it was like fireworks went off in my heart: The dreams weren’t a punishment. God was showing me how I could be a blessing. ‘I can help her!’ I smiled, handing her my card.
“As I walked away, I realized that I’m not defined by my past but by God’s unconditional love and endless grace.”
—Linda Billingsworth, 61, Kirklyn, PA