Life has not been the same since I last blogged…
Tammy and I and Everett are currently deep in the throes of our transition to new normal. Not to mention all that our other five kids are going through—these weeks have been taking their toll on them, too. I don’t really know what to write, frankly.
Some things over the past two months have gone well… And we’ve certainly seen progress, though it’s usually only seconds between questions, or outbursts, or raucous laughing, or pestering someone, or asking another question, or pouting/crying/tantrums, or more questions, or shouting at the top of his lungs, the only volume he seems to have.
Seconds.
Think of how many seconds there are in two months, and that might throw some light on what our lives have been like.
I don’t want to make out that everything is terrible. But nor do I have the margin to describe just how different life with him (so far) is.
On my birthday a couple weeks ago, I lay next to him while he flailed and screamed over and over and over and over and over that he wanted to die (or maybe that time it was “go back to the orphanage”), and I prayed a simple prayer:
“Please don’t ask me to do this again.”
I mean, I’m glad he has a family, I am.
And I am in no doubt whatsoever that Everett was supposed to come to this family.
We are not mystified or befuddled like we were the first time around. This time we know what it can take for a kid to slowly heal from trauma. Already he loves us to pieces, and often shows it.
I just don’t want God to ask me to do this again.
Our family has burst the boundaries of what Tammy and I can emotionally and physically handle. I’m grieving again all the things I know this means I will miss out on, either now or someday.
Yet I’ve gained, too.
You can’t pay anyone to force you to trust Christ for everything you need in a day, even your sanity. You can’t overstate the peace that a quiet confidence God has spoken (regardless of what he’s said) brings.
And better times are coming.
