For 2014, I have decided that my word is SWAY.
Sway
verb /swei/
1. To swing back and forth or to and fro. See Synonyms at swing.
2. To incline or bend to one side; veer: She swayed and put out a hand to steady herself.
3.
I always have a prayer for the year that I write for each of my family members. The first week of the New Year, Ryan was working in Rwanda, so I had extra time to pray and reflect. Something God revealed to me in choosing this word was that maybe some of the struggles that we have in our day to day functioning wouldn't be such a struggle if I could bend a little, like a tree. Maybe if I let go of what I want. Like, if E can not walk upright, if he persistently crashes up and down the stairs, but he doesn't do structural damage, how much does it matter? Why do I need him to fix his gross motor skills? Sure, we need new pants every 3 months but the thrift store is just down the street.
If Etienne constantly fills his pockets and hands with trinkets or trash, it really doesn't matter to the rest of the world. He can just check all pockets, crevices and holes for garbage before we load the laundry in the washer.
Yet there are some things that I can't sway on. Trust being one of these absolutes.
Overnight, I heard Etienne up in his room. His diaper layers had leaked and he was crawling back into a soaked bed. I whispered for him to let me take the sheets off and after some resistance, he moved out of the way for me to strip the bed.
Later on in the morning, I reminded him that we don't want him sleeping in a wet bed and that he never, ever "gets in trouble" for wet bedding. He looked at me, with that flat expression that splinters my heart, and said
So I can not sway on that. I won't sway on earning his trust. That's our absolute.
In case you missed it, Ryan and I, along with some dear friends, have started a foundation. In the first 3 weeks of January we have both returned to Rwanda on individual trips to work. I feel the judgement, "Well, that can not be good for the children, when their parents are coming and going."
Let me tell you this. Me coming home to my Molly, Blake, E and Zeke is healing. It's promoting trust. It's a live demo of what we've been trying to teach E for four years. Our family, our love, our commitment, it doesn't quit or go away. (Honestly, the reprieve is great and E's behavior is a little better when we get home.)
So if you notice that E's clothing is falling apart, it's because his mama decided to sway on that. His crazy 'fro may look increasingly disheveled but he won't be alone in the middle of the night. I may force him to cover every cut and scratch with a band-aid and I will probably continue to annoy him when I try to rock all 65 pounds of him after a hard day. That's what mamas do.
a. To incline toward change, as in opinion or feeling.
b. To fluctuate, as in outlook.
If Etienne constantly fills his pockets and hands with trinkets or trash, it really doesn't matter to the rest of the world. He can just check all pockets, crevices and holes for garbage before we load the laundry in the washer.
Yet there are some things that I can't sway on. Trust being one of these absolutes.
Overnight, I heard Etienne up in his room. His diaper layers had leaked and he was crawling back into a soaked bed. I whispered for him to let me take the sheets off and after some resistance, he moved out of the way for me to strip the bed.
Later on in the morning, I reminded him that we don't want him sleeping in a wet bed and that he never, ever "gets in trouble" for wet bedding. He looked at me, with that flat expression that splinters my heart, and said
"I can do it because I don't need your help."On the surface, maybe this isn't a big deal. Maybe it's just him voicing his desire for independence. But coupled with leftover breakfast bars hidden in his pillow case or the temper tantrums when I cut his food reminds me that there was a time before I was E's. There was a time when he had no one give him food, wash his hair or kiss his boo-boos.
So I can not sway on that. I won't sway on earning his trust. That's our absolute.
In case you missed it, Ryan and I, along with some dear friends, have started a foundation. In the first 3 weeks of January we have both returned to Rwanda on individual trips to work. I feel the judgement, "Well, that can not be good for the children, when their parents are coming and going."
Let me tell you this. Me coming home to my Molly, Blake, E and Zeke is healing. It's promoting trust. It's a live demo of what we've been trying to teach E for four years. Our family, our love, our commitment, it doesn't quit or go away. (Honestly, the reprieve is great and E's behavior is a little better when we get home.)
So if you notice that E's clothing is falling apart, it's because his mama decided to sway on that. His crazy 'fro may look increasingly disheveled but he won't be alone in the middle of the night. I may force him to cover every cut and scratch with a band-aid and I will probably continue to annoy him when I try to rock all 65 pounds of him after a hard day. That's what mamas do.
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