Miller Time

What do you do when your home, your place of rest, feels like a battlefield?

Every morning when the stupid alarm goes off at 6:15am, and all I can do is whisper prayers of desperate pleas for help. Help for patience. Help for peace. Help for love when there feels like there is none.

Is your home ever like that? Because I often feel completely alone, completely and utterly alone in that. My house is not a Pinterest-filled, cookie making, dance party house. Sometimes it is, and yes, we do tend to have quite a bit of dancing in our home, but sometimes it feels like it that has more to do with how much Usher and Beyonce we listen to rather than true healed happiness that has overflowed into a freedom to let go.

I know I'm feeling the way I am because Eric is gone and the kids are still sad and adjusting. I know I feel this way because being a mom is a thankless job 95% of the time and when you don't have your spouse by your side to constantly cheer you on or tell the kids to say thank you, or give you a hug, you end up going all day, begging for hugs and kisses and trying so hard to enjoy the sweet moments you can find in the hardness, just surviving the day with no real time spent with them.

I'm tired of the complaining. I'm so so tired of the fighting. I wish Britt would stop snatching toys, books, crayons out of her siblings hands. I wish Fiyori would stop whining about something at every mealtime, or use some small scrape or bump on her face or arm as an avenue to get attention by whining for hours about it. I am tired of being told "no" when I ask the Kobe to do something. I'm tired of asking for hugs instead of getting them willingly. I am so so very tired. And we are only on week one.

I spent 20 minutes listening Fiyori scream at me because she didn't want to do our regular quiet time. She threw herself on the floor, kicked and thrashed. And as I watched, I begged for mercy. I spoke outloud and prayed for patience by faith. For love by faith. Because I had none. We had already had a verrrry long morning, full of whining, complaining, begging for things at the mall, unkindness towards siblings. And I was tired. I was so worn through.

But there is redemption. I know a Hope that is greater.

When she finally came to me on her own accord and told me she was so sorry. That she was sorry for screaming and that she is sorry she made me sad. She wrapped her long skinny arms around my neck and told me Jesus loved me. And that was when I burst into tears.

I know He is here in our chaos. Which is my calm. My rock. But in reality, its not pretty people. Its more ugly than pretty right now.

I know you see our family on Facebook or Instagram and we look like a happy family that has done the unusual. We have been called heros, celebrities, rescuers. I have shown you highlights, the awesome fun moments, but in reality, redemption is so full of ugly, so full of sweat and tear-filled days. We are broken and in need of so much grace. Our children are socially awkward a lot, they don't know personal space or physical boundaries. Britt is selfish, needy and angry a lot. I lose my patience over and over. I often drag my feet or pout my way through serving them. We aren't a pretty picture.

And I constantly battle with how to tell you that we need grace because even though there is so much beauty happening, there is so much messiness. And we are not heros, or awesome people who have rescued children. But in reality, we have been rescued from the pit and filth of our sin and only long to live in a manner worthy of the Gospel. And as hard as the past 5 months have been, and wonder at times what the heck were we thinking, I know I would do it all over again in a second. Because being obedient to Him and walking in His will for your life is the most liberating, the most perfect, the most glorious thing. For He is worth it all.

A sweet (and wise) fellow adoptive mom wrote this to me and it spoke my heart exactly:

"I think nothing makes you SO aware of your sin as having children. Add to it they are hurt kiddos and we are starting now in the middle of parenting them, really apart from Christ it all spells disaster. I always say why can't I just respond in grace why am I one gigantic ball of sin but it's a process and he is sanctifying us. Because of that even the worst days are deemed worth it. I want to stand before him and know that I choose serving him over an easy comfortable life. 

Please pray for us. Please pray for healing for the kids. For grace, patience and wisdom for me. We are broken vessels longing for the healing and redemption of heaven. He is present, and enough, and our joy and peace even when it feels like a battlefield.