Normal Is Just A Setting On The Washing Machine (Part 2)

We allowed our dream to shift and change, like the sand on a beach.

One dream wasn't better than the other, just different. So we let ourselves dream. We began to read and explore adoption options and as we did the faces of the littles in our dreams changed

They became different color, then they became older, and sometimes they appreared in groups..

Everything was uncertain.

It is understood that once you are expecting it takes 9 months to become parents. Then, if all goes well, you are rewarded with a brand new baby. You bond, you love, you pour yourself into that child and become a family.

Now there was no way to know how long it might take for a child to join us. They wouldn't be a new baby, they would look different, they might have disabilities, problems and imperfections. They might not even want us!

It sounded strong and heroic to take on children who were so needy. Surely God would give us the strength. God would use us as catalystlist for their healing. With us, praying and believing, He would make them whole.

The weed was being pulled and broken and torn. The roots remained.

Looks Like You Lost Your Best Friend

So I did.

In fact I lost nearly all of my friends.

For the past 5 or 6 years I have been a member of an online community. A huge group of women who were brought together by homeschooling but stayed together for friendship and support.

They were my friends.

We shared everything that we lived. We discussed what we were having for dinner and what our deepest fears were...we talked about our marriages, or lack there of. We talked about our children, our pets, our pasts, our dreams and hopes. We supported one another during great trials and tribulations. We argued, discussed, debated and taught...all the while we attempted to always respect each other as a sister in Christ.

They were my only supprt during the days I was learning of the depths of my boys' dissorders.

Then one among them decided that I had lied. I didn't. I try to always tell the truth, even to my own loss...but she was certain. She had friends who believed her and their friends believed them. Soon even people who knew me well questioned my honesty and integrity.

One day I arrived at the "community" to discover dozens of women discussing my integrity. This was gossip or course...and slander, but no one pointed that out.

2 months later it still breaks my heart to think of the loss and the lies. Although, one woman later contacted me privately and apologized. Still, there will never be a place among them for me, again.

How deep the hurt of the betrayal of a friend.

Normal Is Just A Setting On The Washing Machine (Part 1)

Like a weed breaking through the sidewalk, the dream had sprouted and grown without me noticing…until it was too late. Suddenly I realized that I longed for a normal family (does anyone long for an abnormal family?). The roots were deep and strong, imbedded way down in the rocky soil of my heart. It would not be easily pulled out.

I wanted little boys and girls in overalls and sneakers, ball caps and bows, who would catch fireflies, chase lizards, gasp at fireworks, pick flowers and gaze at stars. We would pounce on rain puddles, curl up and read fairy tales, we would dance and sing and blow dandelions. I played the dream again and again in my mind. Christmas mornings in my mind, were filled with organized chaos, chatter, giggling little voices calling to one another. Even the problems were played out in my mind. Little ones struggling to overcome their selfish or impulsive desires while mommy and daddy helped them to grow and reach beyond their abilities. They would be so grateful for our wisdom and skill. Love wrapped us all in warmth and tying us together. This was engraved upon my heart.

In my early fantasies these little ones were tiny versions of my husband and me. Little rosey cheeked, pale skinned, sandy haired people who reflected back our own features, and characteristics.

The first painful yank on that weed came years after it’s germination…we were infertile. Those little clone like people never arrived.

We decided to adopt. The images of those little people began to fade…

There is a way that leads to life

I am a Christian, a wife and the mother of three boys, by adoption.

My hope lies in the Light of the World, but my days are shadowed by the mental illness and disorders that my boys battle. I hold to the fact that where there is shadow, there must also be light. The title of my blog came from the song lyrics below.

I will share more...in time.



There is a way that leads to life
The few that find it never die
Past mountain peaks graced white with snow
The way grows brighter as it goes

(Chorus) There is a road inside of you
Inside of me there is one too
No stumbling pilgrim in the dark
The road to Zion's in your heart
The road to Zion's in your heart

The river runs beside the road
Its waters living as they flow
In liquid voice the water calls
On thirsty knees the pilgrim falls

Sometimes a shadow dark and cold
Lays like a mist across the road
But be encouraged by the sight
Where there's a shadow, there's a light

Sometimes it's good to look back down
We've come so far - we've gained such ground
But joy is not in where we've been
Joy is who's waiting at the end

...Petra, The road To Zion