sowing in tears
reaping in joy
celebrating small successes, and big ones, too
acknowledging deep disappointment and cavernous negative emotions
refining by fire
intentionally thinking on what is lovely
control issues, and letting go of control
uncovering the child beneath the trauma
teaching him that he CAN
learning to love and enjoy each other
strategizing and re-strategizing, and then scrapping that and starting over
unexpected moments of delight and triumph
clinging to hope
God's relentless faithfulness and grace
Two years ago today he both became our son and began his journey toward becoming our son. We too began our journey of becoming the parents he needs us to be. In my early blog posts I clearly thought there was some magical "corner" to be turned. Any day now, I thought...any week now...maybe when he's been home with us as long as he wasn't. That allegedly significant day came and went with zero recognition; I wasn't even aware it had passed until many months later.
I now know there is no corner, only a barely perceptible curve. I laugh a bit at adoption stories which reference those "rough early days"--and they mean weeks or a few months, at most. Our "rough early days" lasted well over 18 months, and there are still painfully reminiscent moments. We are very much in process. I wish we had a love-at-first-sight story. I don't believe I dishonor my son by saying that is not and will never be our story.
Rather, ours has been a tale of binding up wounds (and realizing that God is responsible for 95% of that work), of slow, slow, agonizingly slow progress, of love as a verb, the kind that refuses to give up, of great endurance and patience, of mistakes and forgiveness, of the high cost of redemption.
This has actually been the hardest two years of my life, mine and likely our son's, too. Despite that...because of that...today we celebrate and give thanks for our brave, handsome boy and all that we are becoming together.