Friday, May 4, 2012

They Were the Best of Times, They Were the Worst of Times

They were the best of times. They were the worst of times. That old phrase used to baffle me. No longer. These are the best of times in so many ways… seeing six of our children together, laughing, loving, and playing; but, DARN, it’s also hard. I miss my other half more than words can express, and, wow, being loved is a lot of work, people. Like, imagine the needs of a newborn baby times 3. They need sensory, emotional, and physical support AND THEY NEED TO KNOW THEY ARE LOVED; but that newborn is actually a 10, or 8, or 12, or 6, or whatever year old child, who by the look of things should NOT need this much. But they do. And it’s okay. Necessity rears it head and the committed wipe away the expectations and longings and remember regardless the age or size, this child/children’s needs are needs. They aren’t figments. They are needs. At times, I swear these 6 new eyes are staring into mine begging “love me” but also asking “what does this love mean? I’m not sure I understand. I just know I want it.” It breaks me!  Year of a deficit.  YEARS.

Our sweet Nigusom is so tender and soft but unsure of himself. You can just see him searching for the place where he again feels safe. I am sure he remembers that place from long ago. He doesn’t say much. He only holds me close. He looks deep and watches even when I’m not supposed to know. Hewan, is the walking model of darling. She loves her sister and mommy more than I can describe to you. Every moment awake is filled with touching and talking and laughing and holding and wondering and sharing. When I hold Hewan, I KNOW the reality of God supernaturally filling a child with His love when none exists in the world around them. She exudes the love she desires. Words. Touch. Action. Then, there's Tsehaye, our pistol. Too funny. Too strong. Just a PISTOL. I see him softening, and I look for any moment to bond. He’s only known a world without family. I’m not sure he knows, like his siblings, he’s supposed to want me. However…there is NO doubt he wants his Tiger brother. I basked in their giggles and gibberish all afternoon.

The sweetest moment of my day: There was a differing of opinion regarding which movie to watch whilst mommy cooked dinner. Tiger left in tears. Hewan ran after him to comfort him. Nigusom remained unsure of his place in the mix. Tsehaye and Mez stayed on the couch waiting (touche). I went to Tiger. Hewe-ye (Hewan’s nickname) demanded to give Tiger his way because “Mammy, he broke heart.” I sent her along assured I would love Tiger’s tears away. After Hewe-ye left, Tiger whispered, “Mom, I’m just so disappointed in my selfishness. I thought this left when Jesus came in. I don’t like the selfish part of me.” My heart melted. What a treasure and how sweet. Tiger's words were really a lesson.  Yes, the selfishness.  When it comes down to it, most of these struggles, my struggles, are just that..SELFISHNESS. I want.  I need.  I deserve.  Thank you, Lord, for the reminder from the mouth of a child.  So the worst of these times are still the best!  Tomorrow come on!  We are ready.


  1. Oh Tiger, you melt my heart sweet boy! Tell your mommy to give you a hug for me!

    Lori, praying for smooth days & nights!

  2. Thanks for sharing this, Lori, and for your authenticity as you both struggle through and enjoy this new transition. We are excited for you to be back!

  3. Can I say:
    Love You, Lord. You do all things beautiful!!