Rubber Ducky

[written last night, but only posted now]

I’m updating our blog with what little time I have because it seems easier at the moment than returning phone calls and emails. Friends please forgive me for being so impersonal. I’m settling down to a cup of tea and about 10 minutes of bandwith before my head needs to hit the pillow.

Today was full of all sorts of meltdowns — some for very clear reasons (it’s too fun here to stop and take a nap) and others out of the blue with no linear trace. The transition is clearly very hard on these children and the language barrier and their age make it difficult to process with them. For one who doesn’t like to have anything go un-discussed, all the tears without clear resolution makes it hard for me to believe we’re making progress.

Thank God for the universal language of hugs, kisses and cuddling.

I’m still amazed that in the midst of these explosive fits, its only minutes before they are grabbing at our legs or lifting their arms in the air to be held. The advantage to her pint-size (she is supposedly almost 4 and was wearing a 9 month dress today) is that it is physically possible to hold her most of the day as she wishes. I feel like we’re catching up on lost time. Years without a mommy makes for a large cuddle capacity. And Caleb is just as hungry for dad to hold him close to his chest.

While the “ups” are amazing with these children — they are so stinkin’ delightful — I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the reality of the “downs.” The fight for these precious ones’ hearts has only just begun and we’re starting to wake up to the fact that the paperwork process until now was like a boot camp preparing us for the real battle.

With that said, I feel like I am walking on holy ground. He has given us the honor and the privilege of stewarding two lives. Although today felt like a long walk through a briar patch to find one treasured rose, I sought His wisdom more than I have most days leading up until now. Totally unequipped we are, yet having everything we need to unlock their little hearts, we have no hope for healing for our children except by Him giving new wisdom and revelation.

And so our house and our world have yet again unraveled …only this time I think we were a little more prepared and even excited. For somebody whose family crest probably says “there is a place for everything and everything in its place”, there’s something freeing about having dishes piled up near the sink, today’s clothes strewn between the bathroom and the bedroom and coffee grinds from this morning in a pile next to the remains of the powdered formula. I know this survival mode won’t last forever but while it does, I’m going to store up every memory I can.

Tonight we were searching for a lost jump drive that in a few minutes of chaos became a make-shift phone for Eden (she stole it from Caleb, who in his fascination with electronics took it out of the computer when Daddy wasn’t looking). They caught us at a weak moment where we were too distracted to say no and before we knew it the jump drive went missing. Towards the end of my search I was opening up random kitchen cupboards. Nate was quick to say “there’s no way it’s in there” just before I found a rubber ducky from the bathtub in the next cupboard I opened — sitting right beside our pots and pans. Still no jump drive but the confirmation that I wasn’t too far off in my hunt …

Life sure has changed around here.