Warriors

In the days trailing from the court room, my heart has been covered in mercy.

Interestingly enough, I've been in conversation with God, the last few months, on what "lesson" the adoption of our new littles will demonstrate for our family. Tyrus is our symbolic cornerstone for God's faithfulness. LJ represents his remarkable redemption. Up until the last few days, I had yet to pinpoint what banner Sweet Boy and Little Miss' story would hold high for our family.

For me, today, it screams mercy.

Despite my frustration over the drawn out court proceedings, my heart is so merciful toward Sweet Boy and Little Miss' birth mom. I think about her often and cry over her defeat. I can't help but think I could be her. If she had been born to my mother, she would be different. Had I been born to her mother, I would be different.

I watched her that day, finger the photos I had given her moments before. Her tears were haunting, devoid of hope. Every time Little Miss cries, now, I see her mother.

I don't mean to make an inequitable comparison, but I've been living in a bit of culture shock, as if returning from a third-world mission trip.

Not only have I been merciful in my thoughts toward the family members I met in court that day, my heart drips with mercy for Sweet Boy. I was always loving and compassionate toward him, but it's different, now. I only experienced seconds of his lifestyle, but it was enough to haunt me for days. There is no earthly explanation to how he survived his first three years.

I told his therapist, this week, that Sweet Boy's contagious giggle and bright eyes are a mystery to me. His circumstances should have left him cowering in a corner, hiding within himself. He's not just resilient. He is a miracle.

The challenges we're helping him work through fade in comparison to the light of the future God has for him.

I am in complete awe of what God is doing in these awesome boys.

I was compelled a few weeks ago to increase the depth of our training. I am, after all, raising three warriors. Up until this point, we've mostly been leading by example when it comes to our faith. We, of course, enhance our lessons with active church involvement and open conversations, but as the boys get ready to enter our public school system, I was feeling an urgency to be more intentional.

I found wonderful resources at our local Christian bookstore and committed to spending time discovering God,with the boys, before bed. We are reading through an adventure-themed new testament, spending a few minutes in an age-appropriate devotional, and then taking time to pray.

We take the new testament in very short excerpts, as it takes a lot of time to explain what is happening and why. Tonight, I wondered if we'll really make it through...but I'm glad we're reading the Bible, as-is, opposed to the shortened pictured Bible stories we've read to this point. I'm excited to teach them how to study and pray. Their hearts are so pure and accepting.

Sweet Boy spent so many months on the outside of our family circle, observing our interactions, but the barriers are collapsing, quickly, now. He calls Ben "daddy" and jokes, easily. He, regularly, seeks my lap for comfort and kisses me goodnight on his own accord. He never verbalized an understanding of faith, but readily jumps in, now, when we talk about God's goodness and pray for friends.

Tonight, during our prayer time, I was so moved by the sweetness of his prayer:

Dear Jesus, Thank you for this day...for the wonderful windows for us to look outside...for all the trees...and animals...for this house...help us be responsible [tonight's devotion]. Amen.

I give God all the glory for protecting this precious boy's heart amidst the chaos of his life. He still has some insecurities and relationship-barriers to overcome, but he is doing so well.

Today, when we were walking out of church for VBS, Ty stayed back to hold the door for several moms coming through. When he caught up with me, he asked, "Mom, are we good, godly boys?"

My answer was YES!

They are strong and mighty; the enemy is already far beneath their feet.