the dump

I have become very proficient at "the dump" lately. It looks like this: first, someone comes into my home. It could be a new friend, an old friend, a visiting family member, or Mason. Within the first few minutes (seconds, if it's Mason), I start to cry and unload all of the hard things that are making me feel as if I'm losing my mind. I dump them. Ezekiel and Eden give me the look - the knowing one that says "oh, there she goes again." Ezekiel usually hides his face and Eden comes over to hug me - or, as they get more used to it, they just glance over at me and then back to the movie playing on Netflix. The movie of choice recently is called "At the Garbage Dump." It's a Mighty Machines episode focusing on garbage trucks. They like to say "ewwwww!" and laugh about what could be in the trash that is being compacted and unloaded.

I've seen some pretty ugly garbage recently. September 7 marked one month since Kami touched down in the United States. I write this once again to remind myself how incredibly new she is to this country as well as to this family and to this life in general. We have waded through anger, rage, sadness, tears, diapers, and despair - some hers, some ours (all the diapers were hers!). There has been blood: some from her head when she banged it on the corner of the wall during a tantrum, some from Mason's face when she clawed at him during a rage. There has been sweat: from her during a bedtime tantrum, and from us during that tantrum, restraining her and praying Scripture over her like we have never prayed before. And how there have been tears: from Kami when she can't have what she wants for the tenth time in one day and can't understand why, and also from me for the same reason.

It was a beautiful moment when some of the thoughts and words spewing from my heart and mouth became so ugly that I saw them for what they were: garbage. I shared before that I had hit rock bottom, but I think I did it again in a different area. I'm not sure how many times this will happen, but after that first time, at least I know that God will meet me there. Repentance was renewing and life-giving. I apologized to Kami and shared with Ezekiel (my very perceptive and very sensitive eldest) my current struggle in simple terms and asked him to pray for me. He's five now and just told us for the first time that he's following Jesus, and I can't think of a better method of spiritual growth for him than just walking this adoption journey with his family right now.

At the end of a day full of behavioral challenges for Ezekiel, he had about strung Mason to the end of his rope. He and I often call each other in when we find ourselves in that precarious position, and when Ezekiel is acting especially defiant and rude, it's usually my cue to step in. I came in to speak with him and saw not the real Ezekiel, but a different, angry, disobedient child spewing out ugliness from within. It was definitely a good call for me to step in, because this was exactly what I had seen looking in the mirror several hours earlier. He and I were in the same boat that day, but I had the extra bit of age and understanding to be able to explain to him what was going on. He really started listening to me when I told him that the same thing had happened to me earlier, and that I had finally repented because I knew that nothing could be right between me and God until I got rid of that ugly sin that stood between us. I hated how it felt. Jesus had already paid the penalty, but it wouldn't be forgiven until I confessed it. Then God threw it away as far as the east is from the west. As I urgently spoke these words into his deep, searching brown eyes, I watched them soften as my "real Ezekiel" returned. After thinking for a moment, he said with great passion, "I like to throw my sin in the garbage dump!" So he found an empty trash bag in the room, made the motion of reaching into his heart to extract the sin (even lifting up his PJ shirt to do so), and placed it in the bag. He asked me to throw it into the garbage dump for him, so I threw it over my shoulder. He immediately looked relieved and then apologized for his wrongdoing. This was a powerful end to my day. Ezekiel operates in a very tangible and dramatic realm when it comes to internalizing ideas. As his teacher and mom, I know and love this about him. What I didn't expect was for his visual to be such a powerful illustration to me of how ugly, dirty and smelly my sin really is, and how relieving and renewing it is to dump it, forever, where the Lord remembers it no more.

The day following this dump brought hope. The Lord is changing my heart towards Kami. It may seem strange to some that a child who is chosen, prayed for, and sought after for months and months through the exciting process of international adoption would not be easily accepted into their new family. It hasn't been an easy or even smooth transition so far. The hurt contained in this little person exceeded our imaginations, and her hurt has in turn hurt those of us who are suddenly sharing our home with her. We knew this would happen, but we had no way of knowing how traumatic it would be. It is difficult to love a person - even a small, deprived person who has known only a pitiful existence - when they are hurting you. Weeks ago God showed me the verse Jesus spoke about doing good to those who curse you and praying for your enemies. Kami has never been our enemy, as we've always been fighting for her, but it's sure felt like fighting against her at many times. The point is that God IS changing my heart towards her.

The other night I popped into the bathroom during Kami's shower (Mason remains the shower and bath master for all four). I looked at her and was really amazed at the current contrast to the cowering, trembling, hunched-over child with skinny legs and bloated belly that we bathed for the first time in Bulgaria six weeks ago. Here she was standing up straight, calmly enjoying the warm water on her back, looking round and healthy from head to toe. She has thighs now and a couple of little belly rolls that she enjoys looking at. What a change. It can be so hard to see these changes as the days and weeks go by, but I desperately want to see and celebrate her progress. She's acquiring new words every day and responding better to affection, correction, and redirection. She still has tantrums and I'm still not ready to take her out in public, but it's safe to say that I know the cause behind almost every tantrum now. She certainly does not have trouble communicating her desires. One struggle I have is that I am a very structured person who doesn't always know whether I'm saying "no" to her unnecessarily or not. This is an area about which I'm praying as I manage the four during the day. It's tricky with this amount of little ones running around because there are things that, if I let Kami do them in an effort to appease her, Isaiah will do as well, which seems unacceptable to me.

But right now Kami Joy, as she is coming to be known around here, is peacefully going to sleep saying "hug", "love", and "Jesus," also singing "let it shine, let it shine, let it shine." I am getting to a place where I know, even in the hard, that she is supposed to be in our family.

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for we know that at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." Galatians 6:9