In the last year I trained myself well to focus on the task before me and not worry about tomorrow. However, somehow in the middle of this self training, in the forcing of tunneled vision I lost sight of one of the most basic things. In my quest to make it through the day I left behind the inspiration, the sustaining of hope that breathes life into tired hearts. It hurt too much to hope. The fear of having a child die is overwhelming. And so, I was just surviving and for a time survival mode is absolutely necessary. I needed to just finish one more piece of paperwork. I needed to call one more government official and not be emotional. I needed the fortitude that survival skills bring.
Once in China, faced with more trauma then I even allow myself to remember right now, I needed to survive. I needed to bathe my daughter, make rice cereal, walk to the store, avoid the human trafficking rings, block out the rude stares, wipe a runny nose. I needed to survive on little to no sleep. My heart didn't even have room for hope, and what little I may have had was chipped away each time I had to verbalize my daughters needs, both daughters. Little by little I continued to let hope be pushed away.
I have been home two months now and have seen so many doctors. Each day is more survival than anything else still. It takes me three to four hours just to feed everyone lunch each day! I'm still mostly, "just surviving." But the tenacity of hope is finding its way back to me. Little by little I find myself thinking of tomorrow and smiling as I do.
It isn't that life is suddenly becoming easier or that the girls are becoming so independent. They aren't. They still don't speak or really express their needs verbally at all. It is still loads and loads of screaming. Both girls still have massive insecurities about food. When they are nervous that is their comfort. When they are hungry there is no time to make something or buy something. It is a constant game of trying to anticipate their need before it gets ugly. It is constant and never ending decisions on when to allow the babying and when to force independence.
But, God is answering my prayers for the restoration of hope. I need it. I need Him. I need Him to breathe hope into the dark corners of despair in my soul. I want to be done surviving the day and I want to find joy somewhere in the midst of all of this. He is graciously answering me with hope that lifts me up each day.
I am training myself to search for joy, to seek out hope in my day. I am daily sitting and basking in my daughter's rare smiles. I am sitting and feeling the wind blow through my fingers with my daughters. I am going through my house and looking at pretty things. I am jumping on the new trampoline for just a few minutes, despite the screams in the background. I am seeking this hope.
It may be my greatest exercise of faith to seek this hope. But that is my goal. I will hope. I will dream of a better tomorrow. I will allow myself to believe that this will get easier, better, more joyful. I will trust that I am becoming a better mother, wife and person. I will have hope that God is planning a future of the deepest joy found in Him for my family.
Once in China, faced with more trauma then I even allow myself to remember right now, I needed to survive. I needed to bathe my daughter, make rice cereal, walk to the store, avoid the human trafficking rings, block out the rude stares, wipe a runny nose. I needed to survive on little to no sleep. My heart didn't even have room for hope, and what little I may have had was chipped away each time I had to verbalize my daughters needs, both daughters. Little by little I continued to let hope be pushed away.
Navigating the trafficking rings and avoiding
thieves with three young girls with me was relentless
and terrifying.
I was so afraid of losing her to the evil of malnutrition.
Her screams for food would last for hours upon hours.
And that she would never interact with me.
In one sweeping moment I lost every dream
I had held for this one.
Fear has such a devastating effect on our hearts.
I have been home two months now and have seen so many doctors. Each day is more survival than anything else still. It takes me three to four hours just to feed everyone lunch each day! I'm still mostly, "just surviving." But the tenacity of hope is finding its way back to me. Little by little I find myself thinking of tomorrow and smiling as I do.
It isn't that life is suddenly becoming easier or that the girls are becoming so independent. They aren't. They still don't speak or really express their needs verbally at all. It is still loads and loads of screaming. Both girls still have massive insecurities about food. When they are nervous that is their comfort. When they are hungry there is no time to make something or buy something. It is a constant game of trying to anticipate their need before it gets ugly. It is constant and never ending decisions on when to allow the babying and when to force independence.
But, God is answering my prayers for the restoration of hope. I need it. I need Him. I need Him to breathe hope into the dark corners of despair in my soul. I want to be done surviving the day and I want to find joy somewhere in the midst of all of this. He is graciously answering me with hope that lifts me up each day.
I am training myself to search for joy, to seek out hope in my day. I am daily sitting and basking in my daughter's rare smiles. I am sitting and feeling the wind blow through my fingers with my daughters. I am going through my house and looking at pretty things. I am jumping on the new trampoline for just a few minutes, despite the screams in the background. I am seeking this hope.
It may be my greatest exercise of faith to seek this hope. But that is my goal. I will hope. I will dream of a better tomorrow. I will allow myself to believe that this will get easier, better, more joyful. I will trust that I am becoming a better mother, wife and person. I will have hope that God is planning a future of the deepest joy found in Him for my family.
I will allow hope to find rest in my soul.
Love you Katie. I am walking the same journey. He just has to come through for us with hope, has to. From one SA Facebook Momma to another, I hope for the days when our faith is our eyes and what we see before us, not merely a longing.
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