3rd Birthdays
Yesterday, Randy and I should have been in California celebrating our grandson's 3rd birthday. But 3 years ago we received that unthinkable phone call. Randy's daughter had gone to the hospital to deliver, a week past her due date, only to discover that C.J. no longer had a heartbeat.
Somewhere in Baja, on that very same day, a woman went into labor. She would give birth to a healthy baby boy. C.E. would soon be taken to the children's home where his older sister lived, and later a younger sister would join them.
Yesterday, a mama goat and her adopted baby came to live with us. I told C.E. that I had a regalo (present) for his birthday.
"Is it Mama A?" he asked, inquiring after his biological mother. With so many kids leaving us over the past week, all the other kids are wondering when it will be their turn.
"No, it's not Mama A," I said. "It's Mama Chiva (goat)."
"Mama Chee-va," he said, because 3-year-olds repeat everything you say like little myna birds.
He was timid around the goats at first, but when the other children arrived he became brave and no longer needed me to hold him. Half-an-hour later when the kids were ready to leave the goats in peace, C.E. asked, "Where is my regalo?"
A new pet, it seemed, paled in comparison to the thought of getting to see his mother for his birthday.
It's impossible to understand why a mother capable of giving her children a beautiful life would lose a child. And a mother who may never be capable of caring for her children keeps having healthy babies.
It's hard to trust God when he doesn't measure up to our expectations. But I suppose that is what we are called to do. Keep trusting. Keep believing. Keep loving. Even when we don't want to. Even when none of it makes sense.
Somewhere in Baja, on that very same day, a woman went into labor. She would give birth to a healthy baby boy. C.E. would soon be taken to the children's home where his older sister lived, and later a younger sister would join them.
Yesterday, a mama goat and her adopted baby came to live with us. I told C.E. that I had a regalo (present) for his birthday.
"Is it Mama A?" he asked, inquiring after his biological mother. With so many kids leaving us over the past week, all the other kids are wondering when it will be their turn.
"No, it's not Mama A," I said. "It's Mama Chiva (goat)."
"Mama Chee-va," he said, because 3-year-olds repeat everything you say like little myna birds.
He was timid around the goats at first, but when the other children arrived he became brave and no longer needed me to hold him. Half-an-hour later when the kids were ready to leave the goats in peace, C.E. asked, "Where is my regalo?"
A new pet, it seemed, paled in comparison to the thought of getting to see his mother for his birthday.
It's impossible to understand why a mother capable of giving her children a beautiful life would lose a child. And a mother who may never be capable of caring for her children keeps having healthy babies.
It's hard to trust God when he doesn't measure up to our expectations. But I suppose that is what we are called to do. Keep trusting. Keep believing. Keep loving. Even when we don't want to. Even when none of it makes sense.
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