There are days ... 3 1/2 half years post homecoming ... that the brokenness of our home ... of our new normal washes over me like a tidal wave. How can we still be at a place where attempts to comfort him when he is sobbing over some perceived injustice in the neighborhood are still met with, "I'm fine." and a child who pulls away from the natural comfort of a mother.
How can we still be at a place when a silly Valentine, given from a Mom to each family member, brings out contempt and disgust from your 7 year old who we traveled across the world to bring into your home. And then after throwing his Valentine in the trash, he looks at others' in the family and says, "It's just stupid." "Don't even bother looking at it.", and I am a puddle.
I remember our counselor telling us 3 months into this journey that we were in the first steps of a marathon ... that this journey was a long one. But how could we truly know that 3 1/2 years later, we would still be dealing with so many of the same basic issues from year one ... and now have school/teacher/neighborhood issues to add on top of the issues in our family that continue to make us feel like we are drowning.
I know that God gave us this child .... there were too many confirming signs all along the way to bringing him home ... bringing him into our family. I just wish I had some confidence that anything we were doing was helping ... that we were on a path that would someday bring healing to our son's deeply broken soul.