It's the birthday of their arrival, and the anniversary of a journey for me.
One year ago today the girls moved in. One year ago, we were entrusted with two souls to be the incarnation of Christ to.
It was five minutes before the first lie was told. Ten minutes before the first tantrum thrown, but I made it a full hour before the first doubt of, What have we done? crept into my limited mind.
Little has changed on the girls' surface. The lies abound more than the truths, and I'm told I'm hated because I'm not mother.
But dig a little deeper with me, She's searching. She's beginning to wonder if she really was made for more. She's testing the waters of the One who will always prove faithful.
She's never known that before.
When we arrive at court in July, some monumental things will happen. One being, it will be the longest either child has lived in one consistent place. Ever.
Dig again with me, but this time, in my own soul.
They have seen my worst. I always thought Benj was the one who had, but I underestimated myself. I have slammed, screamed, and manipulated, mostly God, but my family, the girls I was entrusted with, have had a very substantial share.
I begged prayer for my way to be made known to God, what I knew I could handle.
Then some moment along the way, He reminded me of Who this journey is for. Not for me, not for them, but for HIM alone.
Our future, their future, is so uncertain. But the deepest well of peace abides within me. The lies haven't stopped, the tantrums are still at full force, and Satan's whisper are ever so loud.
But the difference...
I know the purpose of my life.
I would have said that before, and honestly meant it.
But now I know...
My life is a slave to the one who owns me, the lover of my soul.
Each morning is a new chance to die, to taste His suffering, to drink of the greater joy, to know a little more of this mystery of the Hope of Glory I am discovering.
Each day is a new chance for them to see my wretched, mucky, self-absorbed sin, so that I may take them to my Amazing Savior, the One who pursues them.
Each night is one more chance to fall on my knees, crying out my need for Jesus as I lament my failures and rejoice in His redemptive victories.
I don't know what our future holds, their future holds, but I know that each moment is purposed by the Author, Perfecter, and Finisher of my faith...
The one to whom I am a slave, the lover of my soul.