by B
Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the
wellspring of life. Proverbs 4:23
I have known this verse for years and years. It was a
“purity verse” – one of those verses the youth group leaders used to encourage
pubescent teens to keep their emotions from getting out of hand. Don’t give
your heart away until marriage, so the discussion went. Back when I was the
target of this verse, I used to think this verse was just a convenient prop for
the leaders to use on the kids. Although I believe the verse meant what they
said, adults seemed to only trot it out whenever they wanted to deliver the
abstinence talk. Go ahead and google the verse. You’ll see that most of the
discussion is about romantic love and our need to preserve it for marriage.
While I wholehearted endorse that principle, I’m convinced that Proverbs 4:23
means way, way more.
Guarding our hearts isn’t just about keeping them pure,
it’s about not losing them. After all, you guard the thing you don’t want to
lose. What do you think when you hear the phrase “lose heart”? I think: hopelessness.
The Proverbs verse is telling us not to lose our hope. And this is wisdom.
Stick with me here. This is going to read like a really
long tangent. I will do my best to tie up the loose ends at the finish, but
truthfully, I might make a mess of it. You’ll have to read it all to find out
how I do. Much of this post was written on Sunday, so pretend you’re reading
this two days ago…
It was another very difficult day today. Candidly, I feel
like I only write when things get real bad. The crazy part about our life is
that the bad and the good are so near. We regularly oscillate from wretchedly
awful to heart-breakingly beautiful in the space of a few minutes. So many of
the arguments between S & Ca are followed by unsolicited statements of
affection. “I love you” comes twenty minutes after “I don’t love you.” It’s a
picture of our fallen fickleness. Sometimes I feel like I’ve got whiplash from
riding the emotional roller-coaster. My tendency is to withdraw and just
functionally fill the role of dad (I can hear the cheery announcer voice
saying, “Today the role of Dad will be played by B!”). You know, be physically
present but emotionally somewhere else. In fact, I feel like I’ve been living
that way for several weeks. I wouldn’t say I’ve been a bad father – I’ve
regularly been very patient and kind toward my kids, not getting any more angry
than usual – but I’ve not really been here. I’m not sure where I’ve been…
Today’s difficulties started – as they often do – when
two children wanted the same thing. Lately that thing has been sitting on my
lap. For the last two days Ca has been experimenting with being a “xiao baby” –
a little baby. She sits in my lap and talks baby talk, drinks from a baby
bottle, and generally cuddles more aggressively than usual. Some of you may
find this behavior strange from a six year old. However, this is normal adopted
kid behavior. In fact, its presence is a very healthy sign that Ca is bonding
to me. Kids who didn’t have one on one time with a parent throughout their
development often don’t feel as though they are precious. They can be insecure
and need to learn trust by playacting and practicing it. As they begin to feel
comfortable enough exploring and expressing their needs for connection, they
regress to an age where they can be needy and expect a parent will take care of
them. They practice this vulnerability and hope we meet their needs. It’s an
interesting parent-child dance that can reap huge relational rewards if the
parent knows what’s going on and can care for the child unselfconsciously.
We’re really thankful Ca is playing this way.
For the last few days she’s wanted to sit on my lap at
just about every meal. Well S has got some of his own parenting needs and a
healthy dose of big brother jealousy to boot. It’s hard to be a big brother and
especially hard to watch a sibling regress without wanting to join in. After
all, when Ca acts like a baby she gets fawned over. Of course S wants the same
attention and care. He liked sitting on my lap before his sister arrived. It’s
difficult to share.
Two minutes into the church service I took both of them
out of the sanctuary because we were beginning to make a scene. I’m actually
getting more comfortable with that situation. If we’ve been to church eight
times since Ca came home, I’ve probably left the service eight times with one
of the kids to avoid being a distraction. This morning we found a quiet spot
and I explained to both of them how I am one daddy and there are four kids in
our family. They need to share me. It’s the truth, but it also feels to me like
I’m failing…like I shouldn’t have brought these kids into my family if I
couldn’t meet all their needs. This kind of thought causes me to doubt our
parenting decisions, at least a little.
S suggested they each sit on half my lap. They’ve done
this before, but given their attitudes toward one another this morning I wasn’t
hopeful this would work. Silly me. Ca eagerly agreed and back we went to the
sanctuary. They each took a leg and were content for a little while. Eventually
Ca scooted over the pew, since I was an unstable writing surface, and told S
“it’s ok” to take my entire lap. This was a mercy.
Fast forward to this afternoon… it’s Sunday evening, but
already the details are fuzzy. What I remember is that three of the kids were
eating lunch and watching a movie and Ca was deeply unhappy. She was nearly
non-verbal and upset with me for no reason I could comprehend. I wasn’t
involved in the original conflict (maybe it was with E or one of the other
kids?), but I attempted to soothe and comfort her after the fact. She began
threatening to hurt the other kids with a plastic coat hanger so I put myself
in between. She ran away and I chased her in a playful way, but she wanted none
of my cheerfulness. She began to hit me on the shoulders and the face with the
hanger. I tried not to flinch while telling her repeatedly that I love her. She
kept hitting me and I kept letting her. Occasionally she would threaten without
hitting just to see if I’d move. I didn’t.
I’m not sure if this is the right approach in this
circumstance, but honestly I can’t think of anything better. My hope is that my
unflinching words & display of love will overcome her scared, angry
woundedness. I’ve done this with her twice; the first time was in China. It’s softened
her both times.
About ten minutes later she decided to get out some toys.
I get down on the ground to play with her – wordlessly still. Shortly, I offer
her the food she missed from lunch. She invited me to the couch to watch the
movie with the others and asked if she can sit on my lap to eat. Her rage has
passed.
Five minutes later S got jealous and began kicking at Ca.
He and I left to go talk it out… Things didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped. Essentially,
I’m trying to explain to him how his sister was a mess earlier and I just got
her calmed down. Now, he’s screwing everything up. (You can see my master manipulation
persuasion skills at work here.) Not surprisingly, S is not persuaded by my
nuanced approach. Again, my memory here is a little fuzzy. We ended up in a
scuffle and I almost accidentally break the lampshade that E just bought to
replace the last one - broken in a previous tantrum. Now I’m as angry with
myself as I am with S, so out to the deck we went. I calmed down enough to
explain to S that the reason we each do bad stuff (usually the bad stuff we
know we’re not supposed to do, the stuff that will make our lives unhappier and
hurt us & the people around us) is because we’re sinners. I also told him
how I wish I could be the daddy he wishes he had, the one whose lap is always
available, the one who can hold him whenever he wants for as long as he needs.
I told him I wish I could be that daddy for I, Co and Ca. I reminded him about
the verse we read in church today from Revelation 21:4 – “He will wipe away every
tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be
mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
Eventually we headed back inside because it’s chilly. We were both fairly well
calmed down and headed downstairs to finish watching the movie. Ca was doing
something else with E so S gets my lap.
After the movie, magic happened. All four kids decided to
put on a show. Typically these productions involve an acrobatic display by the
boys and a dance number by the girls. It’s a highly choreographed creation
requiring cooperation and devotion on the part of the performers, but somehow today
they got it sorted out. The four kids rehearsed for 30 minutes, maybe more,
while E and I got dinner ready. As dinner time approached, tragedy struck. You
see, sometimes cooperation and/or devotion can be in short supply. In this
case, it appears Ca lost her enthusiasm for the whole affair and decided to “go
off-script” as they say in the business. Worse, the dinner deadline put
enormous pressure on the cast. They needed to skip their final rehearsal in
order to have time for the actual performance. Under these stresses, the entire
company unraveled. There was shouting, angry throwing of props, certain cast
members stormed off while others impugned their character. Not exactly an easy
time to corral everyone for a peaceable meal together.
After some more back and forth we all arrived at the
table and were ready to eat. It has become Ca’s habit to lead us in praying
before dinner. She used to wait for prompts from E, but now just breaks into
her own monologue, recounting some experience from the day or describing the
evening’s upcoming events while we all hold hands with eyes closed. It’s cute.
We’ll start giving her prayer guidance once we’ve got some more common language
to explain it. In the meantime, she prays and then someone else prays
afterward. Tonight was my night.
As I sat there listening to my dear daughter, I could
feel the rage seething around the table. We were holding hands, but some of us
were killing one another in our hearts. Ca especially was a target since she
was the chief reason the kids’ show unraveled. As she prayed she was oblivious
to the hatred.
I began to cry. Not because I was sad, though I certainly
was sadder than I can remember. I was overcome by the ugliness of the evil in
my heart – that I considered my kids an inconvenience, that I told them they
needed to grow up because I’m unable to meet their needs, that I think they’re
ungrateful for all I sacrifice for them. At first I cried because I was ashamed
of my sin, but what really made me weep was hope.
Ca finished her prayer with her beautiful “Maymen”
(that’s “amen” to you and me), and the rest of the family prompted me to pray.
In my tearful reverie I had missed my cue.
“Lord, I am so sad about my sin. I was angry today and I
hurt my family with my words and my actions. I loved myself more than I loved
them. I’m so sorry. Father, I’m so thankful that you forgive me because that is
my only hope. Amen.”
2 Corinthians 4:16-18
Therefore
we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are
being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving
for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on
what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what
is unseen is eternal.
Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the
wellspring of life. Proverbs 4:23
