I’ve been his mama and he has been my son now for almost two years, minus the two months he went back.
When I think back to that first summer he came, all I can remember is the rash that covered my body for six months. I used every cream and ointment you could imagine. I quit gluten and dairy. It didn’t matter what I did, the rash stayed. It was my body’s way of telling me it was too much.
I remember laying on my face every morning in my office, asking Holy Spirit for just enough grace to make it through that day. In those first days, it was minute by minute. I didn’t know how to be a mama to a then seven year old. And he surely didn’t know what it was like to live as a true son. He wasn’t used to boundaries and bedtimes, structure and routine. Love felt uncomfortable, like dipping cold toes in to warm water, it burned.
Although we have quite the journey ahead of us, sorting through so much trauma, and growing together in love, we’ve found our place together. I am his and he is mine. He’s settled in nicely to his place in our family. And we’re hoping one day it will be forever.
I’ve been quiet around here lately.
It’s not because I don’t have any words, I do. A lot of them really. It’s just that they haven’t found their way out of my heart yet.
Also, it’s been a really hard few weeks.
I still haven’t learned exactly how to share the hard without sharing my children’s stories. In the very beginning of our journey, I shared a lot. Probably too much. As I grew as their mama and learned more and more about adoption along the way, I realized their story wasn’t mine to share.
2018 was so beautiful.
We started 2018 with a deep sadness. So much disappointment was felt in 2017 and our foster son that had been with us for six months left very abruptly. But we welcomed 2018 with full hearts, expectant of all God had for us. We heard Him say this year would be a year of harvest. And we definitely saw that. It was beautiful. We saw the first fruits of all the good seed we have been sowing for so many years. It was a year I’ll deeply cherish.
The Garden is serving someone you know.
It’s the girl sitting on the same row with you each Sunday. She’s the girl in the next cubicle over. The cousin you love but only see a few times a year. The teacher who pours out her life into your child. The lady sitting on your board. The woman on the other end of the conference call. The girl on your worship team.