Five Years Later

Five years later, and finally I hear the words I've longed for, "I just felt like giving you a hug." Followed by the sweetest hug I've gotten in a long time from an eight year old boy. They have been five patient years as I have been waiting for this magical time in adoption that I didn't realize wasn't already here.

I remember that after Grace came home there was something special about that anniversary date. I wasn't concerned at all about Micah prior to that hug. He is not needy or overtly affectionate, but rather a very content, happy kiddo that doesn't require much physical attention. That's why the arms encircling me, and the need for a mother's embrace, overwhelmed me. There were tears of joy stinging my eyes this time instead of tears of grief.

One of the things I look forward to in heaven is the hope that all of my children will be there. We had such a short time of enjoying five kids in our home. I imagine an eternity of having all my kids together again. Nothing exotic, just simple things: horseback rides, camping by the river, sitting at the supper table ... for eternity. No death, no tears, no goodbyes.

I have found that my focus is more and more on heaven these days. Trying to imagine it has exhausted me, so instead I find myself planning for it. Painting the girl's room and the upstairs hallway found me telling God what kind of a mansion I'd like in heaven. I laughed when I realized He would probably give me an old, run down farmhouse to fix up because I would enjoy that the most. Poor Rob~ good thing there's no marriage in heaven. I think he's had about all the old farmhouses he can handle.

A big old farmhouse, with a wrap around porch, spiral staircase, and acres and acres of privacy to raise goats, kids and horses would make me content for an eternity. All this, and no sin, no curse, no enemy to destroy. Walking there with my Savior for ever and ever and ever.

News of another teen age death struck our community yesterday. I woke up nearly sick for that mother today. How long, Oh Lord? How long until you come to reign?

The tears of grief flow as I force  myself to feel the immense pain of losing a child. Words won't form for cohesive prayer, so I allow the Holy Spirit to pray them for me. I realized that I am resorting to stuffing again, thinking that not feeling the feelings as I force them to stay in their pit may help. It hasn't before, but who knows? Maybe it will work this time.

So I make myself write a blog post. Make myself vulnerable. Talk about Jesus again. Scare the enemy a little more. Like Martin Luther said, "Why give Satan a vacation?"