Tuesday, January 6, 2015

blessed

I would say I'm a fair crier. 
I can hold back if necessary, but can pour out the tears if I'm touched by something. 
I must admit I don't often think of Megersa's birth mother.
Not in the deep way God is prodding me to do now.
To pray for her, to allow her into my thoughts and our family even though I don't know anything about her.... and I'm moved to tears.
Well, I do know one thing.  One and only one: she gave birth to my second son.
And I cannot thank her enough for that.
Thinking of her and the decision she made... 
Whatever caused her to have to make that decision, I cannot imagine.  But I'm not sure I would be strong enough. 
To kiss my son or daughter goodbye.
To allow God to finish his story, trusting that there was a family out there that would love him.
I don't know her circumstances. 
I wish I did. I wish I could love on her and send her pictures. 
I wish someday Megersa could meet her. 
But most of all I wish I could thank her for our son:

Our son who has been a Nester for over 5 years now.
Our son who loves to rhyme and excels gracefully at memorizing songs, poems or stories.
Our son who loves playing with his brothers and is careful to play gently with his baby sister.
...Our son who pretends he likes all food not to hurt my feelings and is usually up for almost any adventure provided the atmosphere isn't too hot or too cold.

And with the chaos of life and the support and acceptance of our family as is, I often forget we are even considered "different" by normal family standards.
Sometimes he's so like my other children I often forget what sets him apart.
Well, I see it. I see his beautiful dark face, his perky nose, and his crazy old man eyebrows (that are so distinctly him).  ...His long thin arms, legs and torso...covered in the most beautiful chocolate skin.  I know he needs different hair care products and requires a good slathering of cocoa butter daily....
But he has a history and a past that is uniquely his own as well.
Sometimes when I look at his face I wonder what his first mother looked like.
I would bet good money he got his beauty from her. :)

First picture we ever saw of him......and roughly 5 years later:

"different"..."unique"..."interesting"..."unusual" - whatever kind of family label we get.
I do know that his adoption in our lives makes us most of all, blessed.

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