a glimpse and a dance

I stood this afternoon and watched her through the tiny crack in the door.  Libby was supposed to be napping but instead she was using her beloved giraffe and owl to do a puppet show over the side of her crib.  The light was streaming through her windows glittering across her face and her toddler babble tumbled out like sweet music.  I stood enchanted by my little glimpse of her unaware.

He tugged at me while I was working on dinner and asked me to turn on the “Baby” music.  I smiled and followed Tuck into the living room.  I cranked up the volume to the The Supremes “Baby Love” and we grabbed hands and slid around the floor, spinning in our socks and Libby joined us laughing.  The room danced with magic and my heart overflowed.

I needed these moments.  I needed the reminders.  Libby kept me up most of the night, and she woke up this morning acting exactly like a toddler who got 5 hours of sleep the night before.  Tucker woke up this morning seeming to have forgotten about obedience to me and kindness to his sister. After lunch, I found Libby with a marker in her hand and drawings on our rug, floor, and couch.  And a few minutes later, I discovered the dog had gotten into the trash and shredded a diaper all over the kids’ room.  My patience was low and my frustration was high. 

And then they were there, captivating me with their sweetness.  Her creativity.  His eagerness.  Their preciousness. I felt overwhelmed by the privilege it was to be their mom, so grateful and humbled to be a part of this sacred task called parenting.  People ask me why we want to adopt, and I think about moments like these.  I think about how I see my children at their absolute cutest, funniest, kindest, and I see them when they’re throwing fits and drawing on furniture and glaring at me stubbornly and at all times my love for them is constant.  And then I think about all of the orphans out there who may never get to experience the unconditional love of an earthly parent.  The kids who have no one to catch them being adorable when no one else is looking, no Mommy to dance with, no Daddy to wrestle with, no one to tuck them in at night.  And I can’t imagine not giving those things to at least one child.  I can’t imagine missing out on more moments that take my breath away.  I can’t imagine missing my third child’s lessons for me about laughter and grace and patience and love.

And I pray that God, who sees all of my selfishness and pride and wretchedness, catches glimpses of goodness in me.  I am overwhelmed that HE adopted me and pulled me out of the mire and took my hand to dance through life with me.  I am overjoyed that He loves me with a beautiful- unfailing, unwavering, uncompromising love.  He fills me up with this constant love.  I just want to share it.                                      
                                                                                                                                                                                                                    -beth