Monday, August 1, 2016

Wringing Hands

I am sitting here trying to will my tummy into calmness. My legs are shaking, my mind is reeling and I just can't quite get over the fact that Darren and Isaac may not be making their way home Wednesday. I think about my hands. Hands that want to hold my son. Hands that want to hold my husband's hands. At this point, my hands are not opened wide to receive the gift God has for me in this moment. I am too busy wringing them. Trying to figure out what I can do to get the storm to go south or east or just dissipate. But I am not God. And when I start wringing, God reminds me ever so gently to stop, release and open wide the hands to receive His gifts for me, right now, in this moment, by giving thanks. So I will number them...
Sophia waking up singing this morning
Coffee on the front porch with mimi
Isaac's laughter
Becky's song
Friends that love us and pray for us
Birds chirping
Jason Bass (the cat!) wanting to cuddle
My own laughter and joy that follows

Yes, God shows me time and time again...eucharisteo always precedes the miracle.

Give thanks.

In all things.

At all times.

Even when it's hard.

Especially when it's hard.

Sunday, July 10, 2016

Closed Tight

He'll come to us with fear in his eyes, wondering who these people are that are taking him from everything he's ever known. Smells, sounds, eyes...all different now. He will scream and fight and close his little hands so tight. Time will show him how much we love him, but those first days will be hard. Unless you lived through it, you will never understand it. In my Pollyanna world, I think everything will be fine. Our hearts will mesh, there will be no tears, no grief, and we will live happily ever after. It's the 'not-so-rosy' part I've heard it referred to. And I refused to believe it. Until I lived through it. With Sophia. I heard people say, 'she's done so great...she's come so far...she's adjusting so well'. And there was some truth to that. But I have heard and I have seen the grief and the effects it can have on a little ones heart and mind. Heartbreaking. It's so hard for her to trust. It was hard for her to see I'd never intentionally leave her. She couldn't see what I saw. She had no idea how much I loved her. How much I would care for her. She was mine and no matter how she came to me, I'd never, ever let her go. And then it was like the Holy Spirit spoke to me in a gentle voice...'Isn't that how you came to us? Hands closed so tight? Needing to remain in control? Afraid to trust we had your best interest at heart? Even when it hurt?' Yes. Yes it was exactly how I came to God and, truth be know, still am at times to this day. But I'm still His kid...adopted into His family with every right to call Him daddy. And deep, deep down I know He's a good Father and will love me through all the stuff. Just like I will love my kids through the hard stuff. Because He's showing me how to do it. One day at a time. In my One Thousand Gifts journal I write at #426...Hands that are closed...knowing one day they will open wide.