.I Don't Want to Forget.

We had been home probably just around 24 hours. It came after his first night in his very own bed, with his own blankets and clean sheets, inside his own bedroom. His first 24 hours inside a home with his family. How his mind must have been swimming. I had been watching as his tired eyes drank everything in, and I could almost see the way he was trying to put it all together in his head and his heart. I wanted to ask questions, but he wasn't ready, so I stayed quiet and watched. I watched as he interacted with his little sister and little brothers. He was tender and loving, and they were all so smitten with each other right away - especially Scotty. It had always been Scotty. From the first family photo that Habi saw of us, he was mesmerized with Scotty. And Scotty was Habi's most fervent prayer warrior for the year and a half that we prayed Habi home. Scotty believed God would do this, and he never forgot Habi in his prayers. The moment Scotty would hear our Skype ring in the middle of the day, knowing his brother in Ethiopia would be on the other end, he would come running, "Hoptonnu" he would screech in his sweet little voice or "Havvvvviii". Their bond was and is precious - nothing short of God-weaved.

I watched him at the table, surrounded on all sides by family. He was fearful of the American food, but he tried it timidly. Mostly, though, he watched us. And I watched him watch us. He marveled at the way we joined hands, and I could tell he was really listening as Jim prayed thanksgiving over our meals and our family. He watched as Jim leaned over and cut up Jamesy's food, and as I reminded Cadi to use a napkin, or Scotty to sit on his bottom. He was trying to learn this - to learn what it meant to live like a family. My heart soared as he watched, and Jim and I would glance at each other in disbelief that this child, who we met on the street, was now sitting on our dining room chair and part of our family. (Honestly, our gaze still finds each other as we marvel over God's goodness. I hope it never gets old - the way God brought each of our children into our family.)

After we put three littles to bed that night, we sat on our couch with him. Jim and I awkwardly in this new role of parenting a teenager (or almost teenager, his age is a big question mark), decided that it would be a good time to share our house rules and consequences with him. In Ethiopia we had also had a talk, but that one was more about making sure he understood what living inside our family meant. We tried to help him to understand that he would be transferring submission to our authority, after so many years of being in charge of himself, etc. That in itself is a big decision for a kid, and honestly, he has done it with so much grace -grace beyond his years- he is doing so well in transitioning into our family.

Jim went over our few family rules and consequences (explaining what consequences even were), and he tied it into the gospel. It was one of our first moments really parenting Habi. My heart expanded as I watched Jim gently father this child. And while the moment was sweet, and it was encouraging to see the responsiveness that Habi had to our rules and our expectation for family living, that is not what stands out to me the most. It wasn't even the smile that lit clear to his eyes, as it was evident that this is what he desired - to be parented by a mommy and daddy who love him and cherish him and see the amazing gift he is. Instead it was what he said after our conversation was over, and we were snuggled in on the couch. We were all growing sleepy from jat-lag and emotional exhaustion at all that had transpired, and through the exhaustion his soft lilting voice broke the silence.

I don't want to forget. Please, help me not to forget.

Jim and I looked at each other as the words tumbled out of our sweet boy's lips. He went on to say that he did not want to forget where he came from and what God had done for him in bringing him out of street life after so many years and into a family. He did not want to grow up to be a rich American man and forget all that he had left behind in Addis. He did not want to grow so comfortable and used to American life that the life he left behind no longer mattered to him. He wanted to remember where he came from.

I remember my heart beating faster and faster as I listened to the words just tumble from his heart. Here sat this little boy, in a strange country, with virtual strangers, and out of his heart came wisdom of a man. I would soon learn that this was not the last time that we would be blessed and challenged with his wisdom.

Habi went on to tell a story of a man from Ethiopia whom he deeply respected. This man was from the Korah dump. He had lived there for years, and then God brought him out of the dump and to America. I cannot remember if it was for an education, but I am guessing it was. The man was in America for several years, but then went back to Ethiopia. Habi said that instead of the man going back in all of his fine, American clothing and renting a nice place to live, he came home - to Korah. He stepped back into his literal rags and his life living in the dump of Korah, because he had not forgotten where he came from, and he remembered who he left behind, and he wanted to impact the people he loved.

I listened to this and tears cascaded over my cheeks and my Mommy heart broke in two. I could not even envision Habi staying here for years and then stepping back into his street life, but I am not the author of his life story. I am simply a small character in it, perhaps just a stepping stone, and as fiercely as I love this boy as my son, just like with all of my children, I have to hold him loosely, remembering he is first and best God's - not mine.

There are a lot of parallels I could draw from this moment we had with Habi, about remembering spiritually what God brought us from, about not forgetting the ones left behind - the people who still need to hear and receive the love of Jesus. However, I am just going to leave this alone and share this much. I'm still drawing my own parallels and conclusions. I am still learning and growing from this moment as it dances in my head and my heart. Daily my children are teaching me and pushing me to the feet of Jesus.

This was simply a moment that needed to be captured and scratched down, because I don't want to forget.

.She.

She asked for a tea party so innocently, urgently, and sweetly. How could I say no? Her brothers were napping. It was the perfect time for tea.

She said saucers were a must. I agreed.

She sipped the tea, pinky in the air. I asked her where she learned her tea manners. She replied from my American Girl books.

Of course. I smiled. The books are a constant in her hand. She devours them chapter by chapter over and over.

She giggled and chattered and radiated beauty and light from her eyes.

She is sunshine and girly-ness, a welcome complement to her rough and tumble brothers.

She speaks in a sing-songy voice, and as I sipped my sweet pomegranate tea I willed the moment to freeze for just a moment. I breathed her in and marveled in who she is and who she is becoming.

She is growing up so quickly.

May she never outgrow tea parties.

.Recognizing Grace.

God gave me many beauitful moments this past week. Late one night, Jim and I were snuggled on the couch with Jamesy (a pretty typical scene here), and Jamesy started talking! Only a few words, most probably would have missed them, but we celebrated and laughed and thanked God. Jamesy is almost completely non-verbal. We do not not know why. It could be because of his SOD, or have something to do with English being his second language, or he could have hearing impairments (we are still trying to get a good test for that), or his language could be behind because of his Epilepsy. Regardless, we basked in his few words the other night.

Jim and I got some alone moments this past weekend. We have been following our attachment plan with Jamesy for a few weeks shy of a year. We have gone on one two hour date this November, and had left Jamesy twice for a few hours during his nap. It was finally time to see if our hard work had paid off, and take a much needed weekend alone. It was wonderful, and Jamesy did wonderfully with my parents. (More of my thoughts on our attachment plan after one year to come.)

The Momentous Moment I am going to from this past week, though, is receiving Cadi's platelet count on Friday. It had been a month since she was tested. Last month she was at 69K. On Friday, Cadi was at 176K! This is back in the normal range. She does not have to be tested again for another month to be certain she is in remission. I wish I could say that I was strong and my faith was strong through this whole journey with Cadi's ITP, or that I understand why God allowed it. However, that is not true. There were some moments that I was strong, and I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit, as Comforter in such huge ways, and there were other moments that I was weak. The Sunday we came home from church, after Cadi had been acting strange and tired, we found a huge bruise on her hip. Huge doesn't really describe it. It was black and like nothing I had ever seen before, and it didn't hurt her. Jim and I both freaked out. We both knew enough of the signs of  Leukemia, and Cadi had several - nose bleeds, tiredness, pale color, being recently sick with fever, extreme and unexplained bruising, leg pains, etc. That Sunday all of the symptoms finally came together and made us panic. I think, in that moment, we were both sure of what we were facing. We called both of our mothers (who are in the medical field), we heard the fear in their voices, and ultimately decided we had to get Cadi to the ER for a blood test.

Most of the rest of this story I have shared. God has been good. Throughout it all Jim and I stood side-by-side hand in hand. I am proud of our marriage. I remember Jim driving to the ER, my hand on his leg, and quiet tears on both of our cheeks, we looked at each other and out loud promised that no matter what we found out, no matter what the future held, we would not let this come between us or destroy our marriage. It sounds silly and melodramatic, but we really thought we were facing a life-threatening illness for Cadi. And we had seen too many marriages destroyed in this way. Standing here on almost the other side, I am so thankful that God gave us that moment, that clarity, that resolve. We have always had a strong marriage, but this experience has cemented our hearts as one even more. God's loving kindness can be seen even in this.

So perhaps that is part of why God allowed our family to walk through these past four months. Sometimes those Momentous Moments come disguised as pain and trials, but God's grace is always there waiting to be realized. We just have to look for it and recognize it and accept it.

This is a Momentous Monday post. To learn more go here, and please feel free to link up with us right below!)

.A Saturday Moment.

We had just finished a breakfast of whole grain waffles. Our tummies were happy. We had shared giggles between bites, the children snug around our little table, and Jim and I cozied next to each other. Always this way. Us exchanging glances and smiles, eyes dancing as if to say is this really our life? Are we really this blessed? Are these children really this crazy?! And sometimes we just burst out laughing, right then and there, at the wonder of it all. Lately we have been reminding one another that we have a six year old, a three year old, and a two year old. So craziness is pretty much required. And most days we love it!

I began clearing the dishes as the children stayed and chatted with their daddy. The Pond, or some other Saturday morning radio drama, was playing softly in the background on our Christian radio station. As I wiped down the waffle iron and scraped bits into the disposal, I began to hear giggles, and then rhymes, and sometimes clapping. I finished up what I was doing, dried my hands, and peeked around the corner. Jim had pulled one of Scotty's "preschool" books out. The children were all gathered around him laughing and jumping and dancing in circles.

It was the best moment all week.

To see Jim embracing Daddyhood. To see Cadi with sparkle back in her eyes, and a flush on her cheeks. To see Scotty following along and understanding what Daddy was asking him to do, and realizing how much he is growing. To see Jamesy, running here and there and belly laughing - thinking he was the reason everyone else was laughing - forever our clown.

It's a memory I mostly tucked into my heart, because I was too slow getting my camera out, with little time to check lighting or settings, I began to freeze the moment. It's nice to have these photographs, blurry and all.


These are the moments, that when I am old and gray, I will pull out of that little place in my heart, and revisit.

And I will smile and remember when.

When my children were little.

When my husband was young.

When life was so full and so blessed.

This is a Momentous Monday post. To learn more go here, and please feel free to link up with us right below!)

.Masked in the Ordinary.

It is in the ordinary.



The little and simple, everyday moments.



The ones that blow by - too often unnoticed.



But when I do pause and take notice of these moments.



It is then that I see them for what they truly are.





Ordinary - yes, deserved - no, blessings - privileges even - that take my breath away and make me whisper again.



Really, God? This? This is the life you have given me? With these children? This is how my days tick away for this season? It's all too wonderful. Honestly, this is a breath-taking gift. I just need to recognize the gift, because this gift is so often masked in the ordinary.

.Finding the Beauty. {edited}

{edit} Since posting this Cadi has once again spiked a fever of over 102. She is listless and miserable. Tomorrow we go to the doctor. Please pray for her, and I am coveting prayers that Jamesy is not next. This has been a really long few weeks of sickness. I really want my children healthy and able to enjoy the Christmas season. Thank you, friends.

....in the ordinary.



I am still tending sick children. Although, honestly, Scotty probably could have gone to church today, we decided to keep him back home. His asthma makes his immune system more susceptible to sickness, so I want to make sure he is completely healthy. Cadi is still running a slight fever, but I do believe she is on the upswing. And Jamesy, well he always stays with Mommy.

While I am discouraged to once again be missing church, I cannot help but be thankful for these moments with my littles. This season of them all being little is slipping away so quickly. So today I redeemed the moment, and found beauty in their snuggles, kisses, giggles, and cuddles in my bed.

I found beauty in the realness, the simplicity, the little details of these pajama-clad children.