Isaiah 61:7
I met my two sons for the first time one night during a face time conversation. I can't explain it, but the moment I saw them, I knew they were mine. It was like a light switch. The desire and fear for missing out on a small baby was suddenly gone. Once face-time ended, Tristan and I looked at each other and said, "those are our kids." My boys are 5 and 8 years old. They are beautiful, blonde haired, blue eyed little boys with incredible personalities. They are survivors. They are incredibly tough. They are my hero's. The first time I met my 5-year old face to face, he yelled "they're here!" and jumped into my arms. My 8-year old asked me if we would keep him forever.
Our sons are moving in with us in just 3 days. Tristan and I have been pouring our blood, sweat and tears into getting our home and our lives ready for them for the past few months. We're not sure what happened to summer. We have not taken time for ourselves. Oddly, we are fine with this. We saw their faces and we knew what needed to be done. Summer has been preparing for them.
Tristan and I have spent some time with our boys, including a trip to their current foster home, a trip to Fayetteville, a weekend overnight and multiple face times. I felt so much joy in watching them have fun and experience things for the first time. I've never felt that before. We took them to the lake and introduced them to stand up paddle boarding. My 8-year old who told me he would NEVER step foot in a lake was doing back-flips off of the stand up paddle board by the end of the day and asking to swim without a life jacket. My 5-year old turned to me as we paddled towards the beach and said, "this is so much fun!" I felt something in those moments I had never felt in my life. Seeing joy through the eyes of these boys. Seeing the future of adventures and so many new introductions.
My boys have food anxiety. They have a fear of physical abuse. They wonder if we will keep them. The things they have seen and experienced in their short time on earth are things that most adults never have experienced and never will. Yet they are so resilient. They still laugh and joke and play. I've never seen them cry. They are different then many children I have met.
I see John in my two sons. I see the loss of my children in my two sons. I see Tristan in every part of them. I see my family. I see myself. I see God.
Foster children tend to have an unwarranted spotlight put on them. You would be amazed at the things people have said to us.
"Do you actually plan to adopt them? You can't possibly commit to that. They may be violent."
"I could never do anything like that, those kids come with all kinds of issues."
"Will they be kind to your animals?"
"You're going to miss so much, first words, first steps, you're giving up all of that by not having a baby."
"You are going to inherit a boat load of crazy issues."
"Why would you not just do IVF? Why not private adoption?"'
These are all fear based thoughts. I know that. My boys don't need a spot light, they need love. They need people that believe in them and can speak truth to the fine young men they will become. Tristan and I will fight for that every day. Their current foster parents have fought for that every day. I know the community of friends and family we expose them to will fight for that every day.
I am about to be a mom and words can't express how much I feel God at the center of all of this. There are so many ways to be a parent. My moment came to me in the eyes of two little boys that needed us. We are the definition of an instant family. I look forward to seeing the amazing things these two will do in this broken world we live in. I even look forward to the challenges they will put me through, the questions they will ask, the questions they won't ask, the inevitable melt downs. I look forward to gaining their trust. Their flaws are something to be admired and respected. We need them.
It will be a while before we can apply for an adoption, but that's OK. I want to speak truth to their future right now, to attach myself right now, to call them my two boys immediately. They were never ours to begin with, they belong to something so much greater, a universal love we will never be able to provide but can only experience. They are simply a gift that was withering the day they were born. I want to remember that every day.
To my two sons, oh how we love you so much already. We've been speaking truth to you, praying for you and holding you at the center of our hearts. We can't wait to see all the incredible things you will do with your lives. May the spot lights be off, and the love of the universe be turned on for my two sons, for they are a true reflection of the love our creator has for all of us.
Through every loss, through my own brokenness, I have been restored double over and over again throughout my life by the loving light that put me here. It's now coming to me in the form of motherhood.
