The Death of Me

This adoption is going to be the death of me.

Seriously.

Some of you asked me to blog and update while we were in Costa Rica, so here it is: I am dying.

Before you go thinking I'm being overly dramatic, let me explain.

Life two months ago, before we had a travel date, while we were enjoying summer vacation, going out to lunch, taking day trips to the zoo and the movies, it was a good life. I had no complaints. 

Life today consisted of waking up at around 5:30 and the sun was already up. One child in our bed by 6, his two sisters in the same bed by 6:30, and arguing and complaining about someone taking up someone else's space within 10 minutes.

Fast forward to the point where we were trying to get some structured learning accomplished and I had one child who cannot focus on her own work because she's too busy looking after someone else, another who was trying to avoid any work at all, a 4 year old who was upset by his lack of workbook, a 13 year old who just wanted her siblings to be quiet so she could read, and the bio kid in tears because she didn't understand her assignment for her school back home. 

Good times.

If I had a dollar for every time someone said mommy today, I'd be hitting triple digit income, and that includes the time I tried to go to the bathroom and someone stood outside the door calling for me, as well as the other child who immediately confronted me once I opened the door. 

We've had whining over someone touching somebody else's things, tears over pushing on the soccer field, grumpiness over not being allowed to go outside in the dark after bath time, and the requests that begin with, "Mmmmoommmyyyy, yo quiero...." insert whatever item said child wants at that moment. Chances are it's food. 

Whether you believe me or not, I'm dying here.

This morning, I was speaking with one of the native Costa Ricans who live on Portantorchas' campus. She was asking how it was going, and I said it's exhausting trying to be there for 5 kids who haven't had a parent in their lives and are trying to see just what needs you'll meet. You try and answer every cry for something because we were taught in training that you're making up for all those years when someone didn't, and this is how trust is built, but you just want 5 minutes to yourself! She smiled and said, yes, but how wonderful to hear them call out "mommy!" because in the homes here, they aren't allowed to call anyone that, only tia which means auntie. They finally have parents and a family!

And though I didn't want to let the words soak in, and I wanted to grit my teeth at her truthful piercing comments, they still broke through. 

This isn't about me, or my complaints about my loss of comfort and personal time, or how hard it is, because me? I'm dying to what God has called us to do each and every day since we wrapped those 5 children in our arms that first day at the home. And it is an ugly death that exposes all the sinful ways I want to cling to comfort and self indulgence, painfully exposing how inwardly focused I still was when I stepped on that plane to Costa Rica, no matter if I thought I had already submitted to God's calling for our lives.

I was on Facebook this evening (because yes, I still grab a moment of social media after our littlest three crash), and someone posted something about more of us being willing to step out of comfort zone. Well let me tell you, it stinks. I will honestly confess to you right now that I have stomped around the kitchen early in the morning and told Mike, "I do NOT feel like doing this today!" 

And you know what? I don't. I would question the mental stability of anyone who would live our lives for a few days  and think this is their idea of fun.

But no one said dying to yourself was easy, or that you get out of it just because it hurts.

So, to update from Costa Rica, we're dying here. But I think that was God's plan all along.