I hate how so many people are involved in Josiah's life and how he isn't even more than a name to them. And its not even the right name. To them he is "Talen. Born March 19, 2009. Developing normally." They don't see what he eats for breakfast or the favorite part of the crib he curls up in or how he giggles when you kiss his neck. How does the person who knows him the best get the least amount of say about his future? It baffles me.
But I am not the One who knows him the best. God surrounds me with people who are brave enough to tell me that.
The first is Brenda. My closest sister in Christ. When I sit down next to her while we were waiting for three hours to be called into the court room, I want to lean over and tell her how I want things to go MY way, not hers. I want to keep him for myself. But I can't. The words won't come. Instead I say something like..."It's just not fair to Josiah. He's getting the brunt of everyone's mistakes. He's getting bonded to us, and we to him. He's getting the short end of the deal."
And she grabs my arm and looks at me and says, "Don't think for a minute that he is what is getting the brunt of it. He is getting the BEST of it. By putting you and Justin in his life instead of him being stuck with his parents this year. He got what God knew was BEST.... for this phase of his life."
The words were sweet... the last six were bitter. I choked on tears. I'm glad she saw how we were what was best for him, but she didn't always see it that way. She of all people should know how I feel. She is me, thirty years from now.
How would she feel if one of her babies was taken away after she had one of them for a WHOLE YEAR!?!? I love her because she loves God so much and shows it. I'm angry because I want her to see what I see and feel how I feel. One of those emotions comes from God, the other does not. I know which one is which, but I'm not ready to let that one go yet. I will tell you when I am. Today is not the day.
And then there is Jen. My most kindred spirit. The Diana Barry to my Anne Shirley. She is the kind of friend that no matter how much distance or time separates us, when I hear her voice on the phone its like she is here and no time has gone by at all. I met Jen at college through a mutual friend, (shout out to Carissa...I love you!) and I knew then that our lives were so closely intertwined, they always would be. Our lives' paths are so similar, its as though God wove them together so we would know He ordained our friendship. (Sidenote: when Jen wrote about me in her blog, she mentioned most of these already, so Jen, sorry if I stole some of your thunder here. I just wanted to share it with my very few faithful blog readers too.) :o)
*We are both the middle children of a set of three sisters. Both whose older sisters are named Amy, and whose younger sisters love music.
*We married boys we loved from high school a week apart from each other. Both of us moved back to our home towns, in the same town our parents live in.
*We both went to a Christian high school, graduated from that school, and later became teachers at that school.
*Our mothers share the same birthday, date and year.
*We both had trouble starting a family. Her with getting pregnant, me with staying pregnant. We ended up having daughters two weeks apart from each other. Molly was one inch longer and one ounce heavier than sweet Lydia.
You can say that the similarities in our stories alter greatly after that, if you know Jen's story. I shouldn't have the right to call her and complain about my day yesterday, if you know what she has been through these past few months. But Jen, for some reason I still don't know why, is joyful for me in my victories and can grieve with me in my defeats. She is just that awesome of a friend. She is the kind of friend that tells me what I need to hear, even when its not what I want to hear. She puts everything in perspective for me and tells me that its ok to feel two ways at once, and by example, she shows me how to cherish small victories though heartache hovers at the finish line.
Jen told me that if I were Brenda, and it was one of my sisters' children who were in trouble, I would turn my world upside down to help. It wouldn't matter how old I was or what my health was like or even that I lived states away. Family is family is family is family. And that's what family does. It wouldn't matter the obstacles, I would be there for my family. And I know she is right. For the first time, I looked at the situation through Brenda's eyes. And the picture looked different.
All this time, I thought it was up to me to convince Brenda how to see what I saw. I wanted her to see my house, see pictures that I had taken, see the family that he knows as his family. To get to know me as "his mother." But it is not my job to convince her. It is not up to me to remove the briars. God made the woods.
I went to bed last night feeling at peace after tucking my sweet Josiah to bed, knowing that God knows what's best for his life. I was hoping to feel that way in the morning.
But I woke up with a jolt, hearing Josiah babble in his crib. I wrestled with the thought of getting a few more minutes of sleep, and then was overwrought with guilt. I think, "Months from now, when he is not here, I'm going to think back on this moment and feel guilty that I didn't hold him when I could have. I chose sleep over snuggling. A moment of peace rather than watching him smile when I went into his room and let him know how much I loved him." I hate living this way, thinking today may be my last with him. But isn't how we should cherish our children? Soaking up every glorious moment God has blessed us with them?
I don't know. I put chocolate chips in my breakfast cereal. I don't have answers. Chocolate and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with Josiah and Molly this morning will have to suffice.
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