We are lambing full swing here on the farm and have a lot of first timers. I watch them as they try to assimilate what has just happened and what must happen next. I feel a connection to them. I understand. I feel a bit confused by my new mothering role myself. It’s whole new ballgame and it feels as if none of us know the rules….
Another therapy session. I pour out my heart.
The kinder I am the more he escalates. The more I offer love, the more he rejects. I am exhausted.
“Do you have some days that you are able to wake up and not dread what is going to happen?” she asks. “Some days” I answer. But not most days…
We talk of training and affirmation and hope. And somewhere in the midst of the words I realize:
Sometimes we take on too much…
Every mistake, every failure is not a direct result of flawed parenting. Sometimes no matter how much I love they will still hit the dog. They will still spit. They will still tell me that they do not like me. Some days I will do it all right and it will still go all wrong.
Moms are a funny bunch aren’t we? Sometimes the beautiful wiring that makes us loving and nurturing gets a little crossed and we believe it all depends on us. We begin to believe that the choice to do what is right is ours alone. That every failure must be laid at our feet.
I look at the new moms staring at that wriggling mass and I understand.
This rebirth is no less bloody than if you had come from my own body…
and it is no less beautiful.
Some things in life are out of our control.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.
The courage to change the things and I can.
And the wisdom to know the difference.
I posted this song once already but I feel compelled to post it once more…
Just in case you didn’t listen here are the lyrics:
You are a house that’s broken down
You are a house that’s burning
And everything in me wants to run
but that’s not love…
If you fall I’ll fall with you
If you hurt I’ll feel it too
Even if my heart turns black and blue
I will love you
I planted seeds down in the ground
Not every one is growing
When I am tempted to give up
I choose love
Beauty and light will fight for you
Goodness will rise
It shines for you.
It’s official we are adopting! No relatives have asked to be considered and the paperwork (at least on our end) is filled out. The adoption worker comes tonight, we never know what tomorrow will bring but for right now, this moment we are thankful.
I share a lot of about my boys. One day I will post their beautiful pictures and introduce them to you officially. They make me laugh. They make me cry. And they have taught me more about myself than I have ever cared to know. I am excited that they will, by God’s grace and provision be part of our family according to the law but sometimes…they are a house that’s burning and it feels like everything is on fire; and sometimes…. everything in me wants to run but that’s not love.
This song has special meaning to me especially on the days when I see the ashes and the behaviors make it all feel too hard, the days when my heart is black and blue and the RAD screams to be heard, acknowledged …and I want to scream back or cry or run but I must take a deep breath and fall.
I am learning what love really means. It is not partnership and it is not disposable. There are no guarantees and there are no contracts (if you then I). It is frightening because it requires a dependence on something other than myself and it involves risk. Love is nonexistent outside of denial of self, yet self whithers and dies unless it receives it. And although it can be hard to give, it is at times even harder receive….what a conundrum, a beautiful enigma! But in the end it’s the best thing I have to offer and although it costs much; the more I give the richer I become. Sometimes I love with words, sometimes love speaks best through touch, sometimes I love with boundaries and sometimes I fall.
To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless. GK Chesterton
$10.00
Watching my prayers answered in my front yard?
priceless….
I know I talk a lot about how hard this journey has been (and it has been let me tell you! again) but there are moments of glory that take my breath away. Moments when God learns down and whispers…..
who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?
I am always waiting for the aha moment, when it all comes together and we smile toward heaven knowing all our questions are answered with a resounding “Well, of course my favored servant, you can now have whatever you want!” I don’t realize that is what I am waiting for exactly, but it is. So when the road gets hard and long I moan and groan.
I can’t do this….
Is this really what God wants me to do….
Dishes and wiping bottoms? this is the calling of God in my life??????
I get impatient and stomp my feet. My flesh dies hard. I mean really, did I expect angels on each side trumpeting my way each time it got rough? Well, yeah…I think I kind of did.
So I am learning what it means to walk by faith. You know, it doesn’t mean quite what I thought it did. The walk is not marked by comfort and smiles and hugs and kisses all around. Sometimes it is only found with tears and aching knees. It means walking when all around you is darkness. Walking when you can not see where you are going….with no guarantees except one:
And lo, I am with you always…even to the end of the age.
And in the end we aren’t doing mighty things for God. We are only walking so that He can do might things through us.
It’s going on 3 years or so since we began this journey with woolie beasts and I never get sick of new lambs. It never gets old to walk out to the barn and see the new babies.
See the little brown girl in the back? She is about as cute as they come and not any bigger than a minute!
*Tomorrow is my birthday. Tomorrow I will be old (okay, okay not really….I’ll be 37) I noticed it feels a bit like spring outside as we finished up a few errands and on a whim I grabbed a hula hoop from the toy department. I have never been successful at hula hooping but it looks so stinkin’ fun! And I was inspired by this….
Anyway I bought a hoop right….the kids and I tried it out….and I could not do it. I watched video after video (hooping is so easy, I just taught an 80 yr old woman to do it. Blah blah blah) Defeated and mostly feeling old and fat (I blame everything on being fat) I almost gave up and then I read something interesting. Turns out that the hoop must be a whole lot bigger than the ones you find in the toy section to work. It wasn’t because I didn’t have the ability, it wasn’t because I was old and it certainly wasn’t because I am fat….it wasn’t me at all, it was the tool.
I immediately thought of my children. These little guys are trying to navigate a scary world with inferior tools and often rather than recognizing it isn’t the child that is the problem, it’s the tools that they are using I become frustrated and discouraged. So I ordered a bigger hula hoop and decided to focus a bit more giving these little ones the tools they need. Survival skills are important but just like a too small hoop you can’t keep them spinning for long. In the end you are worn out and the hoop is still on the floor.
*so, um yeah…today is my birthday…this got published late. Hey, if I wasn’t late I wouldn’t show up at all….
Today was a glory day. It did not start out the way. It started out with my eyes bugging out of my head while the therapist talked me down. It started out with K. riding with his hands WHERE I CAN SEE THEM AT ALL TIMES! which generally means straight up in the air because although I am not exactly sure what he was doing in the back seat I am sure it involved his hands and spit. Hey, at least it wasn’t pee. AND THEN(!) we sit in the waiting room (waiting rooms are battlezones for RAD moms everywhere). “Do we need to go over the rules?” I ask. He answers no and smiles. I glance at the stranger two seats again and decide what the heck, let him do his worst, Carrie is in the next room after all…she will vouch for me.
*a bit of explanation: these peanuts are desperate for attention and control and strangers are fun to manipulate. I have been accused of hitting them, slamming heads against beds, refusing food and water….you name it.
Anyway, K. then says in his most pitiful voice. “Mom (insert dramatic pause and does eyes) thank you so much for my…..coat.” (this is a favorite tool of K.’s mention a basic necessity like a coat, shoes, underwear, water, whatever and ham it up so that it appears as if he is so deprived that he is thrilled that this one need has finally been met.) And then looks pointedly at the aforementioned stranger waiting for the shocked expression of pity. I don’t know that man’s name or anything about him but I kinda love him cuz he just.sat.there. Score one for team mom!! Let the battle begin!
Of course this all is relayed to Carrie (our attachment therapist) who then had a conversation with K. explaining the rules of waiting rooms and moms and all that kind of stuff. We talked about mom and how she loved everyone and in the midst of the conversation K says:
“David and Jed have a mom”
Ouch. No wonder we have been acting out. Notice who he doesn’t mention having a mom? Yeah, when you are a little peanut not having a mom to call your own is a scary place to be.
Sigh. I wasn’t listening.again. Oh, I heard the screams and the crying but I totally missed what he was desperately trying to say….
So we drove home (and drove and drove….an hour is a looooong time) and he had to put his hands up again but this time when he glared at me I listened. I did not react. I smiled my love at him and said “hey, lets see who spots the first hawk!”
Tonight I am not a loser, I am a winner
Oh! and I love our adoption worker! She is going through the adoption process herself and we swapped white mom + black kids + Walmart stories. Funny stuff, guys, funny stuff.
