People from the church got mad at us for pulling out of a church camp. My daughter got in not one, but two, fights with a seventeen year old eighth grader and got detention for a week. My son stole the teacher's scissors and held them up (playing) to someone's neck like he was in the "movies." My son and daughter got in a fight that escalated into him running away and the entire neighborhood, Thai and non-Thai alike, were scouring the streets for him. And to start it all off, the therapist said I am the one who needs therapy first and most. All this happened within 9 days of each other.
The weeks before I had started questioning God about why we were brought to Thailand, how we were going to make it financially, what was our purpose here. I still didn't know where I was supposed to serve, which ministry to join forces with and feeling guilty every time I told someone no, or I'm not sure. Well, God certainly showed me the answers to all those questions in the span of those 9 days. I went from questioning His judgement to knowing without a doubt that I am back to my old ways of trying to control things. I remembered the verse "Be still and know I am God." I have never known such a loving, graceful, merciful community than we are in right now. Yes, I am totally humiliated that my lack of bonding with my children has held them back. Yes, I am totally embarrassed that my child ran away and now everyone knows we don't live in a utopia filled with unicorns. To the questions of how we are going to make it, I am learning to "be still..." I am learning to be content, to block out the negative naysayers and to listen to the angels who have surrounded us with love and support. I am learning to say things with my actions and not words. I am learning to love my children for who they are in spite of all their hideous badges of honor, sometimes worn proudly on their sleeves. I am learning to listen and smile when people tell me what they think of me or my parenting skills. I smile because I know without a doubt those people would never be able to handle what we go through in one day, let alone the last four years with wounded spirits and the aftermath of abuse. As one loving friend put it, they are special, and you are specially picked for them. I am beginning to believe that. I hang on to the fact that my pride is not because we are special, but because we are chosen by God to parent, to learn and to love. We are not perfect, but we are humble, we are fighters, we are survivors. We will do anything, try anything and fall on our knees publicly to hang on to the robe of Christ and follow His Holy Spirit in guiding us-all of us-to the cross. He may drag us kicking and screaming, but we haven't let go of the robe yet!
All this new learning of the attachment theory has made me step up to the plate, not accept them bonding with Chris more than me and to hold me accountable for their healing and in return, healing all the hurts from my childhood I never knew were impacting my relationship with anyone, let alone my family. Little by little, in my humble gypsy heart, grows tiny roots of two adolescent rascals who have not wormed their ways in, but clawed, kicked and screamed and fought their way to get there. May they one day know how much I love them and how I will die loving them. No matter how much they embarrass, humiliate, hurt, defy, or rebel, I will love them with all my heart.
