Koreans in My Kitchen: Wasted

Wasted...that term meant something different to me in high school (to my great shame). Now it has become a feeling. A season. A big fat question mark of wondering if love and discipline and effort will amount to anything fruitful. Somehow the past always follows me into the present. "What you did before"...he whispers over my shoulder..."It didn't take. It wasn't TRUE. They didn't follow Jesus like they said they would. Love and discipline and good care didn't change the outcome." The horrible voice of the Accuser follows quickly behind me...looking for my weak moments when it's all I can hear. And it keeps me from sleeping. Some days it renders me prayer less. It feels like the broken stuff will always stay broken.
I DO have a tendency to make plans. I am not going to lie. I wanted to MOTHER those 2 little boys in foster care that didn't end up here...in the middle of my sister in law's death. In the middle of my beautiful daughter's wedding. In the middle of reunifying my niece to her mom. They were placed somewhere else. Couple of wasted bunk beds just staring at me every day when I come up the stairs.
Again, I realize my inability to hand it over to Jesus completely. I have held onto them...the broken pieces...AGAIN! Lord have mercy on this stubborn heart and weak mind!
I read a blog that reminded me what God does . Can't tell you whose blog it was, sorry, but it was about Jesus feeding the 5000 and what he told the disciples to do NEXT. The disciples collected the broken pieces so nothing would be wasted. It dawned on me the broken pieces are indeed worth collecting. They will be used again. To feed others who are hungry for life and safety and God. Now there are 3 empty beds staring at me. I'm not going to pretend any of it was easy or that I learned from the experiences over the last year. No more wisdom with my age ( 50! yikes!). Just knees with carpet indentations and a raspy voice from crying out to Him for it to make sense. But I am WILLING, again, to try turning them in. Handing them over. Trusting the one who gave me the Bread in the first place. To feed His sheep. For the praise of His glorious grace.