Saturday, July 26, 2014

the good life...

dear boys,

today uncle kolby took you to chattanooga to visit the aquarium.  it just occurred to me two days ago that both of your main babysitters will no longer be around after next week!  uncle kolby has to go back to iowa, and miss butler is being transferred to a new school.  easy to take these people for granted until they're suddenly unavailable, and then i realize how blessed we were to have them!

i am constantly reminded of how much people around us who know us well or know us very little love and support our family.  we got free passes to the aquarium from our friend miss tinti.  uncle kolby's dad sent you a huge box of snacks and treats!  auntie jodi sent us a big bag of athletic shorts and shirts, and we all felt like we won the lottery.  i am just amazed by relatively small things that add up to huge blessings.  and it seems they never end.

this month you spent four days in kentucky with our spillman family, and you literally had the time of your life.  parks, baseball, basketball camp, swimming, movies, brownies at bedtime, kool-aid at breakfast - it sounds like heaven even to me!  god bless your auntie leslie, uncle brent, mimi and poppy.  they survived and then some!




we are not without our challenges.  we still deal with emotional ups and downs, arguing and bickering, and general exhaustion with life and love.  it hasn't been a completely smooth road, but it certainly has not been as hard as it could be.  perhaps it will be one day.  there's always the possibility of regression or discovery of serious issues, but for now we are all existing rather happily and contentedly.

probably as a mother and wife, my biggest love language is "acts of service."  this morning i woke up to clattering dishes and footsteps stomping down the hall.  i got a big smile on my face and laid there a little while longer before getting up.  i finally walked out of our bedroom to three cheerful boys cleaning up the house.  bedrooms were being straightened up, the kitchen dishes were being put away and dirty ones loaded, and edwin made me coffee.  EDWIN MADE ME COFFEE!!!  it was awesome.

it is not lost on me that this is not typical behavior for 6, 8 and 9 year olds...especially emotionally traumatized boys who are still trying to adjust to a very different life.  what it tells me, though, is that you all are exceptional human beings.  god has done something exceptional in your hearts and minds, and i see that in more than just household chores.

yesterday marked EIGHT MONTHS that you guys have been home.  i'm simply blown away.  i think back on afternoons that you all were home from school for 45 minutes, and i was already wanting to crawl in bed and lock my door.  i think back on days when i called dad at 11 am and said, "when are you coming home?!?!?!?!?!  save me!!!!!!"  i remember hiding in my bathroom, door locked, with a ziploc bag of leftover garlic bread so i could eat in peace.  i'm proud to say i can make it DAYS without calling dad to come save me!

i remember being so angry at you nathan, after a long day of a bad attitude and grumbling, that when you yelled "i want to go back to africa!" i responded in exactly the wrong way.  instead of responding with sympathy and understanding, i fired back with examples of how great you have it in america and how hard it was in africa.  big-time mom fail!  but i remember being ready to punch our next door neighbor when he called you a bully and a problem.  i remember wanting to scream at him, "this 9 year old has fathered his younger brothers for the last 5 1/2 years of his life!  he made sure they got fed, bathed, and their diapers were changed!!  he fought on their behalf, with his fists and then his words.  he lost a father, a mother, brothers, and friends when he left his home country.  he is NO bully.  he is a lover and protector and SURVIVOR, and he still has a kind, kind heart.  what's YOUR kid done in the last 9 years?!?!?!"

just this morning, bennett, you said to me, "mom, i was very angry at kaday when she stole our forever family. she was very mean.  i was very angry."  i said, "but she didn't steal us, you know that right?  we chose to add her to our family."  "yes, but she was very mean.  but now i love her.  i really do love her.  a lot."  i said, "bennett, do you know why kaday was mean?  she never had a mom and dad to teach her how to be kind to others.  they were not kind to her and so she did not know how to be kind to other people."  "yes, i know.  i wish i could punch them!  they should not be mean to her.  we will keep praying for god to let us adopt her."  "that's a great idea, buddy.  thank you for loving kaday."

yesterday, i picked you guys up from camp.  edwin you said, "MOM!  i am hungry.  my belly is like a frog.  a baby frog.  a baby frog who really wants to eat."  and that's you in a nutshell.  just humor and metaphors.  i still find relief in your laid-back attitude (mostly), your love of laundry and dishes, and your subtle chuckle at my sarcasm.  usually it goes over your brothers' heads but you totally get it, and i LOVE that about you.

i so want to remember all these things.  i know i will forget them, and so i hope i can write down a lot of them.  i know one day i will think, "it wasn't really that hard, was it?"  i will forget the challenges we all went through, and when i can remember them, i will love you that much more.  i will be that much prouder of you.

thank you for being my sons.  i can say that with total ownership.  you are my SONS.  it feels so good.  i am so proud to have you.

love,
mom









IMG_9322web
Nathan | Age 9 | Sierra Leone, Africa | 1st summer
Why is Barefoot fun?“Soccer, the water slide, skateboarding, and the basketball.”
What has been your favorite part of the week?“Soccer and basketball—they are my favorite sports. I learned how to dribble the ball.”
What have you learned about the Bible this week?“About Elijah, Paul, and Saul. Elijah built an altar and God made fire.”
Why is it a cool thing that everybody here is different?“Because God made us like that. You should like the way God made you.”


Thursday, July 10, 2014

difficult decisions...

Dear Birthday Girl,

Today you turned 8!  Kills me how old you're getting.  I remember you as that teeny, tiny, undernourished, Krio-speaking, ball of fire who could out-eat all of your brothers and hit back just as hard.  I remember the first time I saw you.  You were the little girl from The Raining Season blog.  Almost a celebrity after an entire community of people read about your plight.  That little tiny girl plucked from an ugly situation.  And there you were beaming, clean, wearing a little green khaki skirt and just wanting to hold our hands (and hearts.)

Today is your birthday but also another day I've let you down.  Sometimes I feel like that's the only thing the adults in your lives have ever done for you, and I am just another.  I've been planning a trip to see you next week for over six months, and I made the heart-wrenching decision to postpone that trip because of the Ebola outbreak.  Some of our team has made the same decision, but some are still traveling.  I know I've made the safest decision overall for me and my loved ones, but it's not the best decision because it breaks your heart and it breaks mine.  And you are one of my loved ones.  We had the surprise pleasure of Skyping with you this morning for a few minutes to wish you a Happy Birthday.  You giggled my favorite giggle and soon began asking if I was coming on Sunday.  I asked a caregiver to explain to you that I couldn't come.  I gave her all the gentle reasons that I'd planned out as an explanation, but your little heart only heard that I wasn't coming.  I've disappointed you again.  I've abandoned you again.  I've hurt your heart again.

I was telling Dad this morning while I was sobbing in our bedroom (it's a bit uncomfortable to sob in front of your brothers!), that our entire relationship with you has been tumultuous.  Every single step of it has been hard, disruptive, uncomfortable, painful.  The most uncomfortable thing I've ever experienced in my life.  I don't know that I've ever cried so much over a single human being or situation as I have over you and yours.  From the day we asked you into our Forever Family, to the times we've been denied permission by your birth family for adoption, to the day I left you in Sierra Leone and brought your brothers home, to this day when I told you I wouldn't be coming to visit.  There has not been a single crossroad we've come upon that has gone the easy way.  Every single path we've taken has been full of overgrowth, thorns, and sharp rocks that hurt like crazy.  And yet, as I told Dad, I feel with all my heart and soul that we are fighting the good fight.  Instead of feeling like these are signs that our love for you is not meant to be, I feel fully and wholly that we are pursuing what we are supposed to.  We are meant to be in your life.  We are meant to fight for you.  We are destined to interfere with the dark future that you were once headed for and turn you toward the hopeful one that we dream you'll have.

I don't know if we can ever adopt you legally.  I don't know if you can ever come be with us in America.  I'm learning, though, that it won't affect my commitment to you if you can't.  I will always love you.  I will always fight for you.  I will always come visit you.  I will make it my life's work to make sure you have a hopeful, happy, healthy, joyful, and meaningful life.  I will not leave you.  I will not forget you.

I believe with all my heart and soul that God has something spectacular planned for you, and I am just blessed to be a spectator, cheerleader, and vehicle for that plan.

The words cannot express how much, but I love you.  I love you, I love you, I love you.

Mom