Monday, March 9, 2015

Real Talk

Many of you have inquired what life looks like as a 23 year old, single mother of 9 children in India. Many of you have followed my journey via social media, have read my blogs and kept up with small updates I have posted about the girls and I. And it has been through those things that I have been able to open up a small window to anyone who wishes to get close to it and peer there eyes through. In many ways, it has provided a stable view point into our daily life. But in more ways than most, it has shown off the extravagant joy and deep beauty that we experience as a little family here in India. While none of that is false or staged, I believe it is often taken at face value by initial impression and therefore very often misunderstood. The reality is I am a broken person attempting to lead broken children into a place of healing. I have come to India with baggage and my children have come out of a very dark place and into my home with more baggage I have ever seen a child carry on their own. And together, that makes us one load of baggage that clears all the smarty carties in the airport out.

I say those things not because I want to be a Debbie downer and throw a wet towel on the immensely beautiful thing that our life is, but for the sake of perhaps building our window a little bit bigger for you to see more of our life for what it really is. This is the part where I share the things that aren't as inspiring as the pictures of my children joyfully laughing while we all embrace each other. 

This is the part where I share that sometimes I raise my voice at my kids in utter impatience. Sometimes, I don't enjoy my kids because sometimes all they know how to do is scream and crawl all over me like I am a McDonald's play place. Some days, I don't want to come out of my room and face a house full of Indians who don't speak my language and don't understand where I come from. Sometimes, I am so lonely that I don't know how I will possibly make it another day. Sometimes, I wanna cuss out the millionth auto rickshaw driver who rips me off just because I'm white. Sometimes, India makes me wanna rip my hair out because it's just so different. Sometimes, my kids are straight up brats. Sometimes my kids resort back to manipulation, ungratefulness and victimization because that's the only way they have known how to survive. Sometimes, all my kids do is push me away just so they can see if I will still love them. Sometimes, I see more hurt in their eyes than I do joy. Sometimes, they fall and scrape their knee and cry for hours because they are really crying about something much more painful than a bloody knee. Sometimes, when I really think about what my kids have been through, I just can't cope. Sometimes, I become numb because there is too much brokenness and hurt that surrounds me. Sometimes, I dream of another life that doesn't challenge me so much. Sometimes, I can't imagine any other life than this one. Sometimes, I look at my kids and think about how I'm the luckiest woman in the world to be called their mama for a time. Sometimes, I'm so angry at the reality that I won't get to call them mine forever. Sometimes, I get so upset over the fact that I won't be able to give them everything I want them to have. Sometimes, I am mad that I have to feel so torn between two worlds, and probably always will. Sometimes, I'm so selfish and I throw myself a pity party. Sometimes, I cry and I can't stop. Sometimes, I feel like I have nothing left to give. Sometimes, I have no one and nothing but God himself. Sometimes, I don't feel like I deserve to be these children's advocate, protector and foster mother. Sometimes, I can't see God here. Sometimes, all I can see is God shining through the faces of my children. Sometimes, I feel like God really really really loves me. Sometimes, I'm convinced with everything in my bones that He truly is enough. 

I think there is a lot of freedom in throwing all your cards on the table and just being honest with the way things really are. I also think there's a lot of beauty in seeing something for all that it is- good and bad, beautiful and ugly, put together and broken in pieces. If living in India has taught me anything, it's that the true beauty lies in the rawness and full exposure of something. Our life is truly beautiful because we aren't hiding anything from each other. My relationships with my children are truly life giving because we have already seen each other through so much and walked a very hard, meaningful journey together. God is shaping me into a woman more like himself because he's allowed me to be broken more...but this time, broken for the things that really matter.

For everything that is hard, there is a gift and for anything that is fully seen, there is freedom.