We’ve been home from school this week on a mid semester break (or something like that- I don’t always understand the system here). I’ve had some time with these little guys to reflect on how well we really are doing. Honestly, I’ve been struggling a bit. Feeling the jolt of really, truly adjusting to life on the back side of the Sahara… where all the rules are different… trying to figure out just how I fit in… just how I want to fit in. It’s all a good process in the end I think; I need these moments of contemplation that leave me stronger in the end. I learn about myself- who I want to be and who I am not.
My heavenly father has been reminding me that mothering them is the most important job I do. When I stop to really check in, to look at how they are doing, I realize that perhaps they are doing better than me. They love this life. They were made for this. They are growing and thriving. They are called to be set apart. They are some of the most caring and compassionate people I know. When people whisper to me just HOW CUTE they are, I have to agree. Little Men. This one like his dad in so many ways. This one learning and discovering so much on his own. Making words from letters. Drawing pictures of an “airplane trash collector. Look, the triangle part squishes the trash!” I am so in awe of them, so thankful and honored that He placed them in our care.
Last night the power went out, and I was amazed how just the sound of my voice or the fact that they knew I was there with them- reaching over for me just to feel it- was enough. “Don’t grow up. Don’t grow up,” I say silently inside my head. But they are, and I am proud of them. And I watch they way his fat little legs are becoming long and lean. And I work with him on READING. And he wants to help me cook. And I love every moment.