We are hitting all kinds of one year milestones in our adoption that we have been quietly celebrating. While I work on a new project in August, I would like to celebrate with you by re-sharing some posts about adoption. As I do, would you pray for those that are stuck? That are still waiting? Thank you friends!
It isn't any big secret that empathy and compassion don't come naturally for me. I promise I do have strengths, those just aren't listed among them.
But I can't tell you how many times since we have been here that we have
lectured sermonized discussed with our children the Fruit of the Spirit. We have discussed over and over again how God can help us to overcome our natural instincts to choose a Godly action towards others.
Hi. Yeah. This mom? Needs to learn to swallow her own sermons.
Because what God has shown me, is that He is happy to let me have a glimpse through His eyes. What I see blows my mind.
I see a growing boy. A boy that has mostly had to be in control of his own survival since was little. Let me repeat…A four year old that has mostly been in control of his own survival. He is still fighting for control because to him it means life. In those hard moments I whisper to him, "You can let go of this, we will take care of this. We will take care of you." And I can see he wants to believe, but learning to trust us with his life is a big thing. Each day we get closer.
At the end of the day as I fall into bed with tears in my eyes frustrated because it didn't go my way again. Some days I feel sure I won't survive the motherhood journey God has set me on. I hear Him whisper, "You can let go of this, I will take care of this. I will take care of you." Because learning to trust Him with my life is a big thing. Faithfulness.
I see a blossoming girl whose whole life has been one major change after another. I see her trying to take it all in stride, trying to bear all the burdens. But the weight is too heavy and she crashes into tears and tantrums. I pull her aside. I let her vent her frustrations. I whisper to her, "You can't do it all, it's okay to be frustrated, let mommy comfort you, let Jesus comfort you." Because the burden of being the "good kid" is too much. We are not perfect, we are forgiven, and I pray she sees the grace in that.
Parenting in front of a crowd is embarrassing, and frustrating. Everyone sees my mess-ups, there is an audience for my bad days. When I loose my temper at nap time, I crash into tears and tantrums. He whispers to me, "You can't do it all, it's okay to be frustrated, let Me comfort you." I'm not perfect, I'm forgiven. Peace.
I see a tiny boy. Smaller than he should be that is starting to push. For such a small, quiet child, his will is so strong. He clings to me when he is afraid, but when he isn't? He tests me in maddening ways. I am encouraged because I know he is starting to feel safe. But it is my job to actually keep him safe. So I whisper, "The boundaries keep you safe baby, you aren't in trouble, and I love you desperately that is why I'm setting limits for you." Trusting the limits is a hard test. Discipline feels the least like love sometimes. The picture is bigger than he can see though, and he is starting to believe.
I push when everything feels good. I dig my heels in because I want my way, I test God because I feel safe. He says no. It makes me angry. It makes me dig in deeper. He whispers, "The boundaries keep you safe, you aren't in trouble, and I love you desperately, that is why I'm setting limits for you." The picture is eternal, and I am starting to believe. Self-Control.
I see a little girl. She can get lost in a big family, and cross lines she shouldn't cross. She can get drowned in the noise. Sometimes in the busy she needs to be seen, she needs to be held whether she wants it or not. I pick her up when she is perfectly capable of walking, I whisper to her, "You are precious to me. I see you and I'm holding you because I love you." And she melts into me for just a second. Enough to get recharged and go about the business of being two.
I feel lost in this haven of ministry and saints. I can get drowned in the singing of the saints, and feel invisible. In the business of this season that rarely feels like serving, He holds me close and He whispers, "You are precious to me. I see you and I'm holding you, because I love you." And melt into Him for a moment. I get energized to go about this business of "ministry" of serving the people before me. Gentleness.
I see a baby girl. She is growing up fast. All The Crazy doesn't seem to faze her much. She only knows trust. She is with her people. She is surrounded by people that adore her. I giggle with her, "This is so much fun. I love watching you grow and learn. I love watching you thrive in places we didn't know you would be okay in." She giggles back. Because sometimes it is just fun.
I know I'm growing in All The Crazy. I'm with my people and I'm learning to trust. In so many ways, I adore this life. He laughs with me, "This is so much fun. I love watching you grow and learn. I love watching you thrive in place you weren't sure you would okay in." I laugh too. Because sometimes it is just fun. Joy.
"But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law." Galatians 5:22-23
Love. I love the little people I see through His eyes. He loves me.