I want to specifically talk about my four year old. I have mentioned before that Liam has presented some unique challenges in our world. Challenges that often leave me physically and emotionally exhausted. I read a fabulous encouragement this morning that said, "Often we must grow downwards, that we may grow upwards; for the sweetest fellowship with heaven is to be had by humble souls, and by them alone. God will deny no blessing to a thoroughly humbled spirit. Humility makes us ready to be blessed by the God of all grace, and fits us to deal efficiently with our fellow men. Whether it be prayer or praise, whether it be work or suffering, the genuine salt of humility cannot be used in excess." I found this quote by Charles H. Spurgeon, to speak right to my heart's current condition. Ha just realized that makes it sound like I am saying I am super humbled, which would in fact immediately negate any humility I would have had. In reality I am talking about the constant feeling of being shown exactly how much I don't know.
Let me back up...
When we chose adoption I was pretty confident I knew what it was going to look like, be like, turn out like etc. I am tender hearted and nurturing by nature(which has proven to be a blessing and a curse). I have such a passion for psychology and counseling, that I really felt like God could kinda hand us any challenge and I could handle/conquer it. Wow bold I know. I don't think I outright thought this but I do think my lack of true adoption training, awareness, etc. showed just how boldly I thought I could handle things. Sure I did the online classes and read the articles recommended by our agency but that is pretty much the extent. I really thought that any emotional brokenness would come in the form of a snuggly little butterball who would cry and cling to me. That there would be immense sadness that if I just did everything right, I could bring healing. I would be enough to heal the scars, reverse the trauma, and create this new better life that our family had to offer.
Instead I have spent the last four years continually having my feet knocked out from underneath me. I picture those cartoons when it shows the character plummeting off a cliff only to be seen in the next clip barely dragging their bruised and broken body over the edge only to find that for some bizarre reason they are once again knocked off.
When I am looking for the sufficiency of my abilities to heal the brokenness in our home and in my children I will always be knocked off the cliff. If I continue to climb back up on my own strength I will find that through whatever circumstance I will be knocked off once again. I can only rise after being truly humbled through God's grace. His all sufficient, all surpassing all HEALING Grace. Carrying the burden that it is up to me to heal any brokenness caused to my precious middle son, in a time when he was only in my heart and prayers, is a huge task. One that I very bravely, very nobly, and very ignorantly took on, on my own.
God designed our family before time existed. He picked each one of our children to be our children. Instead of remembering that God called me to adoption. Not because I needed to step out in Faith and then take it from there, but so that it was a journey that WE could walk together. Hand in hand. He did not do this because of some fabulousness I had to offer. But because I was a broken vessel made perfect by the redemptive blood of his son. He knew that I would come to a place of such brokenness that I would finally stop and let him do the healing.
As circumstances in my life both in my control and beyond my control knock me off my feet and remind me of how week and incapable I am, I have a choice to either reflect on my patheticness or I can realize how powerful and perfect God and his Glory are made in my weakness.
God thank you so much for my three rich blessings. Thank you for the reminder that apart from you I can do nothing. Thank you even more for the constant doss of humility they bring to my life daily. I pray I never again take them or the humility they bring me for granted.