Some days are just plain hard.
Being a parent is hard.
Being an adoptive parent is hard. And heartbreaking at times.
No one told us when we adopted him that that precious little baby would struggle so much with feelings and security and self esteem.
Words like reactive attachment disorder, oppositional defiance disorder, and some I can’t even pronounce became part of our story.
Tonight, he screams that he wants to quit school, that it’s just too hard. His tears flow and I know he is not lying.
It’s so hard for him to sit and concentrate and trust. Loud noises terrify him. Too much activity confuses him. Being hungry makes him want to run and hide.
And I go in the other room and cry silently to God.
LORD, help us make it to bed time.
I go to him, and hold him. Cradle him and sing his lullaby. And he curls into me and he tells me that he is not a baby anymore.
I whisper, “I know.”
And he asks me to sing his song just one more time.