my people
/
Sometimes it's just too much.
To protect my darlings' stories and to prevent the dam from releasing all my tears, sometimes it's all just too much for words.
That's why I'm so thankful for my people. People like you, who know enough bits and pieces of our daily fight for joy in the midst of the broken pieces of lives that together make up our family. People like you, whose eyes I catch across the church hall and who offer dear encouragement in a glance.
Thank you.
{Someday - though maybe not soon - we'll be able to actually converse with words and not just glances.}
This weekend, I'm going to be with my people at a retreat of other adoptive mamas who share my heartbeat. There, I know someone else has held children as they've cried for a parent who disease stole from them, wiped sand and chalk from around the mouth of a little one who still forgets that she doesn't need to fill her tummy with those things because food is readily available here, filled out medical forms that ask for histories we just don't know, and surprised strangers by answering cries of "Mommy!" from a child who looks nothing like us.
And, y'all.
I'm crying at the thought of being with my people.
To protect my darlings' stories and to prevent the dam from releasing all my tears, sometimes it's all just too much for words.
That's why I'm so thankful for my people. People like you, who know enough bits and pieces of our daily fight for joy in the midst of the broken pieces of lives that together make up our family. People like you, whose eyes I catch across the church hall and who offer dear encouragement in a glance.
Thank you.
{Someday - though maybe not soon - we'll be able to actually converse with words and not just glances.}
This weekend, I'm going to be with my people at a retreat of other adoptive mamas who share my heartbeat. There, I know someone else has held children as they've cried for a parent who disease stole from them, wiped sand and chalk from around the mouth of a little one who still forgets that she doesn't need to fill her tummy with those things because food is readily available here, filled out medical forms that ask for histories we just don't know, and surprised strangers by answering cries of "Mommy!" from a child who looks nothing like us.
And, y'all.
I'm crying at the thought of being with my people.
Would you pray for a refreshing of my spirit this weekend? Oh, how my soul needs this!
{And while you're at it, praise God with me for the sweet husband o' mine who will be on solo Daddy duty for three days while I'm gone, and pray for sweet times of bonding and wrestling and whatnot for him and our six darlings. Muchas gracias, mi amiga.}
For I will satisfy the weary soul, and every languishing soul I will replenish.
Jeremiah 31:25