The Heart For More, The Ache Of Home
Home is something we all innately desire from birth. Though the baby comes into a world suddenly and unknown, the mother’s warm touch and the father’s secure embrace brings a sense of home no matter the environment or the circumstances that got them there. This is the perfect design by God. When this does not happen it leaves a longing that is only quenched by the thing that was lost.
My Story
The Heart Behind This Space
My name is Angel Williams and I am the mother of two
beautiful boys. I am also a former foster youth.
My story is one that has not always been pretty. In fact it may
seem, depending on your perspective, that there are more
blemishes than beauty marks but the beauty I now live in
would not exist without the pain.
I entered the world through instability and hardship, spending part of my early childhood in foster care before eventually being reunited with my father.
Much of my childhood was marked by instability, fear, loss, and experiences that deeply shaped my understanding of safety, belonging, and home.
We moved often — from basement to basement, hotel to hotel — and for a long time, I never truly understood what home was supposed to feel like.
Eventually, I returned to the foster care system as a young girl.
For years, I viewed my story through the lens of pain. I could not understand how so much suffering could possibly serve a purpose.
But over time, God began showing me that even the hardest seasons carried seeds.
Seeds of compassion.
Seeds of discernment.
Seeds of restoration.
Seeds of longing for others to feel seen, safe, and welcomed.
What once felt fragmented slowly became connected in His hands. And the ache I carried for home eventually became the very thing God would use to help create it for others.
The Ache for Home
The hardest thing was seeing friends with what I desired; a
good mom, dad and a home but feeling like it was because of
me that I did not have it.
As I grew up I saw more and more what I longed for but the
ability to obtain it became even less realistic because of how
my life started.
I wanted children, a family, and a place to call home.
I wanted what I did not have.
I thought that home meant having a good mom and dad.
So on all counts it seemed I was hopeless.
What I Didn’t Know Yet
There always seemed to be all these barriers keeping me from my dream.
I didn’t know at the time but that barrier was finding my voice,
telling my story and learning to allow God’s unconditional love
in so I could heal.
He would become my home.
Why This Exists
Being hidden. Every youth is a light but that light starts from
inside of their hearts and the very core of who they are. So
much of their hearts and who they are is buried underneath
the pain, grief and shame of their stories.
Relationship. That is what’s missing.
Intimate knowing and being seen.
Communion with God and people.
A broken heart has to be seen in order to be touched.
Oftentimes our stories reveal what’s broken in our hearts.
The Table
At the center of everything we do is a desire to hold space for
stories with care.
A place where youth are seen, heard, and gently invited back to themselves and to God.
A place where they are no longer hidden.
A place where they can come as they are and not feel like they have to earn a seat.
A table.
The Calling
I believe God has called me to change the narrative for youth who have stories like mine.
My heart is to help them realize that within their stories is their hope.
That they are not disqualified because of where they started.
That they belong.
That there is a place for them.
That there is a home.
