Six months ago, our four person family was living in a one bedroom apartment. We had been there for a year, waiting for our home to sell and to find and purchase a new one. We celebrated every miserable holiday inside those walls. Our bedroom was the dining room. Our children shared a bedroom, my son sleeping on an army cot to save space. We ate on tv trays. We could hear every step that the neighbors upstairs took. We heard every cry and every argument within their family. And they heard ours. It was dismal. Hands down, it was the lowest point of our lives. I don't think a day went by that we did not feel sorry for ourselves. Poor us. We don't deserve this. We are so above this. What the hell are we doing in Section 8 housing? I remember asking myself, "What have we become?" I had so much anger toward God. Driving in my car I would look up and cry out, "Why are you punishing us? Haven't we been through enough? Can you not see