With a Grateful Heart, I Move Forward

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the life I’ve built — not with fanfare, not with shortcuts, and not with anyone carrying me — but quietly, steadily, and with my own two hands.

I did this on my own. With faith. With grit. With tears no one saw and prayers spoken in whispers. And when I look around now, I know — in the deepest, calmest part of my soul — that my parents in heaven are proud of me.

I’ve loved. I’ve lived. I’ve laughed — sometimes through the pain, sometimes because of it. I’ve given my whole heart in this life and I’ve never apologized for doing so. Loving fully is not a weakness. It’s a choice. And I’d make it again.

I have a sweet dog and a sweet cat who greet me like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to them. I wake up every day grateful — not because life has been perfect, but because it’s been real. God has been faithful to me in ways I couldn’t see while I was still healing old wounds I should have tended to long ago. Better late than never.

I’ve made mistakes. Plenty of them. I haven’t been perfect — not even close. But where I could, I apologized. Where I was given the opportunity, I made amends. And where I couldn’t, I released it. I’ve forgiven myself. God has forgiven me. And that freedom is something no one can take away.

The last several years have changed me in ways people might not recognize. And that’s okay. Growth often looks like becoming unfamiliar to those who knew an earlier version of you. I’ve made peace with every decision I’ve made — not because they were all right, but because I faced them honestly and learned from them.

I’m closing a chapter now. Fully. Finally. With peace in my heart. I did everything I could. I showed up. I tried to be the friend. I tried to live with integrity. And that’s enough.

What matters most now is this: I get to love my daughter. I get to raise her knowing she is safe, wanted, cherished, and fiercely backed. She will grow up knowing there is nothing she could ever do that would make me stop loving her. I will kick doors open for her when necessary — and when the moment calls for it, I’ll teach her how to walk into rooms with grace, kindness, strength, and compassion.

Because the world doesn’t need more noise.

It needs more goodness.

No matter your faith. No matter your politics. No matter where you come from — kindness still matters. Forgiveness still matters. Loving Christ, loving one another, and showing empathy still matter.

For the last six years, I’ve tried to add value to my community and my state while quietly healing wounds that ran deep. I’m grateful for every lesson — even the bittersweet ones. I’m thankful for every person who has ever been part of my story, even if they aren’t in the next chapter.

I wish everyone — and I truly mean everyone — the very best life has to offer.

And now, with my chin up and my heart at peace, I move forward. I don’t look back. I’m not Lot’s wife.

This chapter is closed. Gently. Gratefully. For good.

Big news (sort of): I’m moving!

 Big news (sort of): I’m moving!

Just kidding — I’m not leaving town or even the neighborhood… just heading across the parking lot. 😄

On December 17, I’ll be trading my one-bedroom for a bigger two-bedroom, two-bath in the next building over at Talus Apartments. Same complex, same floor plan — just more room for dreams to grow.

When Children and Family Services mentioned that a little extra space could open doors for more fostering or even adoption, that was all the encouragement I needed. So here I am — stretching my square footage and my heart.

I’m praying that somewhere out there, the child (or children) meant to call this place home will find their way here — maybe one little girl, maybe two sisters, maybe preteens or teens who just need a safe place to land. I can already picture myself saying, “Girls, dinner’s ready!” or “Let’s go — school time!” or “Grab your coats — we’re off to practice, church, or wherever today takes us.”

I’m 51, single, and still believe that love — the right kind — could show up someday. But in the meantime, I’m building my family my way: with faith, humor, and an open door. Because money can buy comfort, but it can’t buy love or family — and that’s all I’ve ever truly wanted.

Life is moving forward in beautiful new ways too. I found a new church home at Victory Church, and it’s been such a blessing. I officially joined, and my Next Steps classes begin in January.

I’m also finishing my paralegal certification in April, and when I do, I’ll add it to my notary license to offer mobile notary and paralegal services across Great Falls and the surrounding rural areas. I won’t be an attorney — I can’t give legal advice — but I can help with the practical things that so often hold people back. I’ll be able to go to hospital rooms, homes, care centers, or even to folks who live out where there’s no easy transportation. My heart is to serve people who are homebound, elderly, disabled, or just struggling to make ends meet. This isn’t about money; it’s about ministry — meeting people where they are and lightening the load just a little.

And yes, since I’m also an ordained minister, I can even marry people now! So 2026 is shaping up to be a year of faith in action, service with purpose, and love in motion — in every sense.

Still, the dream closest to my heart remains the same. I’m praying for the day I can say, “Congratulations — it’s a girl!” or maybe, “It’s two girls!” I can’t wait for the moment I stand in my kitchen for the first time and say, “Girls, dinner’s ready.” My family may not look like everyone else’s, but it will be a family all the same — built on faith, grit, and grace.

💙 If you’ve ever felt even the smallest tug to foster or adopt, please listen to it. There are children right now who just need a safe place to land — sometimes for a while, sometimes forever. If you ever want advice or direction, reach out to me or contact your local Child and Family Services Division.

I love being a foster mom. It’s messy, it’s hard, it’s sacred — and it changes you in all the right ways. I know so many of you have that same heart for others. You can make the difference between a child feeling forgotten and a child finally feeling home.

With love and gratitude,

Samara 💛

A New Chapter in Great Falls: Fresh Beginnings, Warm Traditions, and Big Dreams

There’s something deeply grounding about signing another year’s lease in a space that finally feels like home. I just renewed mine here in beautiful Great Falls, and I couldn’t be happier about it. This apartment has become more than four walls—it’s a sanctuary, a workspace, a foster home, and a place where I can recharge and build the life I’ve always envisioned.

The past few weeks have been a flurry of activity and gratitude. The biggest news? I rescued a kitten! His name is Finnian Elijah, a spunky little black kitten with the kind of personality that fills every corner of a room. To my relief (and joy), he and Pippin, my loyal rescue dog, are getting along wonderfully. Watching the two of them bond has been such a heartwarming reminder of what patience, love, and second chances can create.

On the foster front, I’m preparing my home and heart for what I hope will be a new baby placement soon. The state came on Wednesday for my monthly inspection—everything went smoothly—and now I’m just waiting on a call from the social worker. It’s been quite some time since my last placement, and during that season of transition, I gifted most of my baby gear to my last foster baby’s parents and donated the rest to a friend who was expecting a grandchild. So, I’ll be starting from scratch—new crib, bottles, clothes, and all the essentials.

To stay ahead of the curve, I created an Amazon Wish List specifically for the foster home. That way, as soon as I get the call, I can hit “purchase” and have everything here in short order. I’ve also created separate wish lists for my paralegal studies and for home comforts, because if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that creating order and warmth in your surroundings fuels every other part of your life.

Professionally, it’s been an exciting season of growth. I submitted an application (and was approved) to the Carnegie Hero Fund, through which I have a full scholarship for my upcoming Paralegal Certificate Course. Classes begin in January, and by April, I’ll officially be certified. Education has always been one of the best investments I can make in myself, and this next step is a key piece of the long-term goals I’m setting in motion.

On top of that, I became a Notary Public, officially commissioned through the Montana Secretary of State, and I also became an Ordained Minister so I can perform weddings—something that fits perfectly with my desire to celebrate love and connection in all its forms. To tie it all together, I’m in the process of forming my own LLC, “406 Covenant & Seal”, which will bring together notary, officiant, and professional document services under one umbrella. It’s practical, professional, and deeply personal—just how I like it.

And yes—because no milestone is complete without a touch of holiday cheer—my apartment is fully decorated for Christmas. The tree is up, the lights are glowing, and the sense of peace that comes with the season is settling in. Between the scent of pine candles, the sound of Pippin’s paws on the floor, and Finnian’s curious kitten antics, it’s impossible not to feel thankful.

This next chapter feels rich with purpose and promise. There’s work to be done, goals to meet, and a heart full of anticipation for what’s next—whether that’s a new foster baby’s laugh filling the home, the satisfaction of earning my paralegal certification, or the joy of building a business from the ground up.

For now, I’m taking it one day at a time—grateful for stability, proud of the progress, and excited for what’s coming. Here’s to growth, gratitude, and good things ahead in Great Falls.

A Chapter Closes, A Life Unfolds

In just a few short weeks—maybe even sooner—I’ll be saying goodbye to a tiny little soul who has, for a season, called me “home.” The baby I’ve been fostering will be reuniting with her family, and with that, my time as a foster mom will come to a close. This chapter, full of lullabies, bottle warmers, midnight snuggles, and unspoken bonds, has been one of the most profound experiences of my life. And it’s one I walk away from with equal parts pride and heartbreak.

Fostering was never meant to be forever for me it seems-it was meant to be enough. Enough to hold space. Enough to help a family heal. Enough to give a baby stability until it was time for them to return to the people who love them and need them most. And now, that time has come.

So what comes next?

I plan to live. To travel without a diaper bag. To stretch out in my bed and maybe even sleep past 6 a.m. To chase joy in all the corners I’ve been too tired or too busy to explore. I’ve worked hard to build a phenomenal career—and now I plan to enjoy the phenomenal living that comes with it.

And I’ll be doubling down on the work that’s long held a place in my heart: standing shoulder to shoulder with Montana’s law enforcement and first responders. I’m looking forward to doing more ride-alongs with city police, sheriff’s deputies, Montana Highway Patrol, and sit-alongs with our dispatchers. I want to spend more time out on the reservations with Tribal Police—listening, learning, and finding new ways to support them even better than I have over the last five years. The more I learn, the more I can serve—and that mission is far from over.

This next chapter? It’s about freedom, fulfillment, and maybe even finding a man I can cook for, clean for, and spoil with love—because despite the armor and the ambition, I’m a nurturer to the core. I want a partner to share my world with—someone who is strong where I am soft and soft where I am strong. And maybe this is the season where that becomes possible.

To everyone who’s been part of my life up until now—thank you. I miss you. For different reasons, in different ways, and with no bitterness. Whether we were meant to be forever, just a moment, or only a memory, I carry your imprint with grace. If we were friends and lost our way, I hope you’re flourishing. If we’re still friends, I’m grateful we had the maturity to redefine what “us” could look like.

And to those I’ve loved and let go of: I cherish what we had. Every laugh. Every late-night talk. Every plan we made that didn’t quite come true. I treasure those memories every single day.

This is not a sad goodbye. It’s a beautiful turning of the page. One chapter ending, another one beginning—with clarity, confidence, and just enough sass to keep things interesting.

Here’s to what’s next.

With love,

Samara

Let it burn, but not too loudly

 “Let It Burn, But Not Too Loudly”

If I smell the smoke and say,

“There’s fire on the way,”

They roll their eyes and mutter low,

“That’s not her place to say.”

If I shout, “Get out! Get clear!”

As flames crawl up the walls,

They frown and ask, “Why yell like that?

Her tone was uncalled for, after all.”

If I drag someone through the door,

Their clothes still catching heat,

They say, “That wasn’t her assigned task.

How dare she leave her seat?”

If I cry, “The roof is falling in!”

They whisper, “She’s too much.”

“She overreacts, she stirs things up,

She’s far too loud, too tough.”

If I ask, “Why weren’t we warned?”

“Who forgot the alarms?”

They hush me like a problem child,

Like truth could somehow harm.

They want me calm while chaos grows,

To smile while people choke,

To pass out paper towels and mops

While everything goes up in smoke.

But I was not made of plastic parts,

Of fake concern and grace.

If a fire’s coming, I will scream—

Even if it’s out of place.

Let them sigh and scold and glare,

Let them call me names,

I’ll carry bodies from the flame

While they play their small, safe games.

I ask what any sane soul would—

They act like it’s a crime.

But I won’t sit pretty and let things burn

Just to be liked in the meantime.

By, 

Samara Sant

Day One (well…partial day) of Mom Life:

 Day One (well…partial day) of Mom Life:

I’ve officially been a mama for just a few hours and let me tell you—what a ride already. 🍼🐾

Pippin is wiped out from all the excitement, baby girl is sleeping soundly, and I’m covered in a unique combination of formula, drool, and who-knows-what else. I’ve been up since 0300 because I was just too excited to sleep, and honestly? I still can’t believe this is real.

She may be four months old, but she feels like she’s going on one! She holds her head like a champ, follows people and objects, can almost sit up on her own, and rocks tummy time with long stretches of holding that adorable little noggin high. She’s blowing raspberries like it’s her full-time job, and she absolutely adores Pippin. The feeling is mutual. 🐶💕

She smiles easily, “talks” nonstop, and has already completely stolen my heart.

Also, fun fact: three women of above-average intelligence have now stared at her car seat for an embarrassing amount of time… and we still can’t figure out how to adjust the straps to save our lives. They will NOT stay the right length. So for now—I’m housebound until we win the car seat battle. UGH. 🚗😅

Today has already taught me so much—but maybe the biggest lesson? Mad respect for single parents. I actually caught myself saying, “If I had a partner, this would be so much easier.” Whew. You all are superheroes.

Feeling grateful. Feeling tired. Feeling so, so blessed. ❤️

#FosterMomLife #DayOne #GratefulHeart #MadRespect #PippinAndBaby #LearningAsIGo #LoveAtFirstSight