We wouldn't know the difference

Recently, (and in this blog that could be anything from this morning to last year :-)) I had one of those really special rare moments along the journey of motherhood:

I was enjoying a sweet Sunday afternoon nap, (don't judge, it's self care 101).  My sweet four year old came to "snuggle" with me.  Her version of snuggling and mine are very different.  Soon she was making silly noises and talking loudly.  I placed my hand over her mouth and she made one of those obnoxious sounds that can only be made by blowing, vibrations on a hand or from your backside.  Yep, in our house we call it "fart" noises :-) Which were followed by belly giggles and more of the same sounds, and repeat, for way longer than I would typically continue this silly behavior.  You know like when a little dog wants to play fetch the little rubber ball, long after the fun is gone for the person throwing the ball.  I laughed right out loud with her.  I don't laugh often enough and this wasn't lost on her.  She looked at me and said, "why are you laughing?" I said something like, "because you are silly and I like laughing with you." We laughed and giggled some more.  I looked deep into her little pixie face and her bright blue eyes, which meant being very close to that face, because I wasn't wearing my glasses.  This beautiful gift of a child.  This sassy, crazy, wild, child.  You see we didn't have to say yes.  She came to us a different way.

She reminds me of a song I heard many years ago at a woman's retreat, a song I have never heard again.  There was a line in the song talking about God's creation, "He could have made everything black and white and we would never known the difference."  Just as that song was being sung the sun set on the lake in one of those glorious sunsets with colors from deep violet, to mango, and pink blush.  The blue water of the lake only emphasized the beauty, every woman in the room was staring at the sunset, as that song ended.

<img src="http://www.freeimageslive.com/galleries/nature/sky/pics/skyclounds02531.jpg">

Here's the thing this little girl and most of my children were a choice we made.  But especially her.  We were fostering two of her siblings at the time, her birth mom became pregnant for her.  At first we were thinking of saying "no" to bringing home an infant when we were 47.  But we were told the other two children would need to go wherever the infant was placed.  We talked, we prayed, and we said, "yes."  In those moments when she is close to me and the belly giggles are abundant I look into that little face, and think "wow, I could have missed all this."  Truth is I wouldn't have missed her like you do a child you have loved and lost.  I would have gone on my way nearly every single day not knowing what I was missing, because ... well, you don't miss what you never had.  How precious that  God gave us color just for our pleasure, how precious this child and all of my children color my world, and their hand prints are all over my heart.  <3

This same feeling washes over me when I look up and see all seven of the children still at home stretched out on furniture and floor watching  an episode of "Andy Griffith" or a family movie.  I am filled with awe and gratefulness when our 16 year old sits next to me in the car and has to tuck his knees to fit into the seat, or he bends from his six foot plus height to hug me good night.  I am abundantly blessed.

Because this blog is all about the journey, I should also include a little more about the week before the cuddles and giggles with my four year old. This blog isn't called Chasing Wounded Hearts for nothing, it's our journey!! All these things happened in one week, yep seven days, seven kiddos, and a mom and dad who love them and each other,  so in no particular order:

• Child off meds for three days
• one child to ER for head injury - glued together
• one child lost computer privileges at school for generating a document that could be called cyber bullying (he was naive and did not make most of the comments on the document, but)
• homeschool ups and downs with one child
• I had to re-certify part of our health insurance
• Back door pulled off hinges
• dishwasher broke - won't drain
• my hormones are making me CRAZY!! menopause stinks
• Strong willed four year old - is there any other kind?
• telling three brothers their mom is trying to get custody of their 1/2 brother, the one they are in contact with and see at least every month
• telling son his birth dad was recently in the hospital
• baseball, t-ball and track practices
• missing shoes and permission slips 
• my own health issues

And some good things too:

• Countless hugs & snuggles
• laundry successes (see previous post)
• laughter
• coffee & conversations with my hubby
• belly laughs and what we could have missed.   

LIFE IS ABUNDANT AND SOMETIMES HARD!

Aren't you glad God made sunsets, sunrises, rainbows, and seasons....Oh, Fall in all it's glorious color praises the Lord, and so can we!

http://www.freeimageslive.com/galleries/nature/weather/pics/autumn_leaves_00195.jpg

This is what a week of wounded hearts looks like

The wounded hearts are real and so are the daily and weekly struggles.  This is our journey right now. This blog is my way of sharing, being transparent, and journaling the journey, so I can look back and see how far we have come.  Because I believe God will truly heal our wounded hearts. 

My wounded heart is struggling...I look back and can see so clearly that I am no longer the same person I was 20-25 years ago.  I am thankful for that, I don't know where that girl would be today.  But the truth is she is still a part of me.  Anyone else find it harder to forgive yourself than others?  I have regrets, I have to figure out how to embrace my past, because it has shaped the woman I am today.  God met me in that mess and changed my life forever, but these wounded hearts I live with have triggered thought processes that are still a mess.  Seeking God's wisdom and grace to sort out the mess is hard work and sometimes so painful I can't stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks.  All the while helping the other wounded hearts to seek the same healing.  I have finally settled my heart and mind that I CANNOT fix these broken places even though more than anything I want to see us all whole.

My husband is lovingly being forced by God to deal with hurts that are 30 years old.  His old fears and wounds have been in control of his life for so long.  What coping methods did he use in the past that need to flee for his mind and heart to be truly free? He walks this journey almost alone I can stand with him, but I can't go where he needs to go.  God is there waiting. 

Our fourteen year old is hard working, easy going, but the wounds are real.  2016 could be life changing for him.  We would love to adopt this child, but his heart is struggling with identity.  We would love to give him a new name, but that means losing 14 years of being called by another name.  How does someone so young choose what is best for them in the face of all this one decision could mean for the rest of his life?

Found this gem yesterday at our local Salvation Army.  A real treasure!
Eleven year old read it and proclaimed, "I don't get it"

Our eleven year old professor is struggling to find his voice, his sense of humor, to navigate middle school, etc.  He is very bright, but the true absent minded professor.  He cannot stand any kind of correction, so he argues every point as far as he can.  If he is wrong in any area, he is unworthy in everything. (his perception of himself - not mine).  It is not all struggle I watched him brushing his 10 year old sisters hair a couple of nights ago.  These two fight about everything!! "She's humming too loud" "He is looking at me." etc. This tiny little moment brought hope to my momma heart.  We are becoming a family!

This ten year old girl is in such a hard place. The reason her brother was brushing her hair? She can't look at herself in the mirror.  I brushed her hair in front of the bathroom mirror, she would not look in the mirror at herself, at all.  I asked her, "what do you see when you look in the mirror at yourself?" After a long pause her response, "a dirty blanket"  How does a momma hear these words and not reveal the piercing of her own heart?  How does a momma respond to such shame and brokenness? I know the things that left her feeling dirty, before she came to our home at 22mos, but at ten years old it is not time to discuss them with her.  The dirt and shame have nothing to do with the princess she was created to be.  They are not the dirt and shame I struggle with because of my own choices...she simply had her innocence stolen.  I grieve the loss of what my daughter could have been, should have been.  For now I remind her that things happened to her before she came to this safe home and none of it was her fault.  Too simple, too shallow, to reach the deep wounds of her heart, but God...

blanket forts and clean laundry...

Our nine year old strong, bossy boy is wetting the bed again, almost nightly.  While making English muffins this morning we had a brief moment to talk about this...he misses his birth mom, doesn't know why she walked away, wonders if she is ok.  Oh sweet wounded boy, how do I tell you again that I don't know why she walked away, I can't know for sure if she is ok, I still believe she loves you and misses you.  I am here and I won't leave you, please, Lord don't take me from him. He is full of stress and worry... no nine year old boy should carry such pain.  He blames himself for so many things and tries to be helpful and be good because the fear tells him he has to or other people will leave him, too.  I whisper softly, once again, "Jesus will never leave you or forsake you. You can trust him." 

Our eight year old boy is a mess.  He is in everyone's business and insisting on having his own way even if it is at the expense of the relationship.  He is trying so hard to make a good impression, a willing helper (on his terms), but he must have the last word, he must be involved in every situation in the home.  Why?  Maybe King Baby?  His whole identity was the baby when he came to our home.  This identity was so fierce that I couldn't baby him.  I had to set such strong boundaries and expectations that I think he lost so much of his childhood.  How do we get that back?  Maybe he needs more snuggles, more time to just be little, but time marches on and third grade is no place for a 3 or 4 year old. 

That leaves a five year old and a two year old.  Their hearts are stronger than most of us.  Their wills are equally strong. They play, they fight, they make blanket forts, they pull each others hair... I carried the two year old upstairs to take a nap, and she yells over my shoulder to her sister, "love you, hon." These are the treasures.  These are the gifts that encourage my momma heart to strive for another day, to pray, to seek, to trust, to believe.  

This is our journey.  Our places to leave stones of remembrances, so we can look back and praise God for all that He has done!