The Sandpaper Child

A few random thoughts: I really don't want to write this post..... I'm waiting for the coffee to hit the bloodstream. Why am I up at 6:30, when hubby is out of town, and the kids are fast asleep???? I'm been procrastinating (who, me????) this morning, trying to talk myself out of getting out of bed and writing this post. For me, this post is about personal reflection. It is a post defined only by the prompting of the Holy Spirit. Much worse than your mother nagging you about something you know should do......... sigh ............. So here goes....... I'm an older mom; most of you know that. Older moms have different challenges and struggles than younger ones. We've had "lives" before children and sometimes struggle as we adjust to the changes that children bring. Some of us have yearned for children for years; others, like me, were totally convinced we weren't born with a biological clock until it went off like at time bomb in our mid-thirties. It then became an all consuming obsession to "get pregnant." Pregnant women all of a sudden were taking over the world and we wanted to be one of them. The desire to have children did not prepare me for the realities of having children. I had one child for a long time. He was 7 when we brought Pickles home (did I ever tell you that I really hate that name Pickles? Oh well, I digress....another post for another time......). And, for the record, one child is a piece of cake compared to two. Adding the second is like exponents in math (ha...are you impressed? thank homeschooling for that one!). Jumping from 2 to 4 children was like nothing I can put into words. The reality of 4 children was like a train wreck for a very long time. So, where on earth am I going with this post. Honestly, I'm not sure. I have a lot floating in my heart and in my head and I'm not sure how it's all going to end. "Before Kids" the following occurred regularly:

• worked out 5x a week


• had regular (every 6 weeks like clockwork) hair appointments


• pedicures and manicures


• hiked


• biked


• worked full-time


• had a clean house


• had an organized kitchen everything was in its place

Life was, well, pretty tidy. I like tidy. Actually, I thrived on tidy. I didn't like chaos. I liked neat and tidy. Adoption #1 - infant, 8 months old, I was 40-something. Reality:

• worked about maybe 3x a week


• walked with a really cool walking/stroller


• worked part-time


• had a "less" tidy house baby bottles and stuff everywhere


• a tad bit stressed (total understatement) frazzled, running around dropping one child at school, another at childcare

Adoption #2:

• work out sporadically (ok, I'm being kind here...it's almost like NEVER) SAHM add in: Homeschooling 2 children (Yikes...how on earth did that happen????? Never saw that in "my" plans....")


• frantically trying to keep up with laundry clean and tidy kitchen: not in this liftime!!!

The reality here is that on the outside, I had it together, masking the little girl inside who thought by controlling the externals, that I could keep the inside "clean and tidy." And here comes the "Sandpaper Child." The child God sent to work on my heart. The child that openly rubs me the wrong way at every turn. The child God sent to heal me. The child I didn't want to love, because if I loved her, then I'd have to find a way to love myself. The child I vehemently denied was "like me" because all I saw was her vanity, the one personality trait I could not identify with. My heart was tightly held inside the iron cage I had formed to keep from being hurt, betrayed and from breaking. Slowly, little by little, the Sandpaper Child began to wear away the iron cage around my heart, to smooth out the rough edges (ok....maybe they were more than rough edges.....). God had send this child as a balm to my soul....I only had to open my eyes and my heart and allow myself to heal along side of her. You see, she couldn't heal her brokenness until my brokenness was healed. Or at least until I was able to recognize the brokenness I thought had been resolved through many years of counseling. We were tied together, whether I realized it or not. Whether I wanted it or not. Some days it felt like trying to shake off a prickling thorn that would not let go..... Some days the feelings I had for her were the feelings I had in my own heart towards myself.....ugly, cruel, unworthy, and unlovable. Thankfully, over time, The Sandpaper Child perservered. The Sandpaper Child's desire to be loved was pure and innocent and had not hardened or turned bitter like mine had. We still have a ways to go, but I can see the healing, both in me and in my Sandpaper Child. We both desired to be a Princess: to be loved and cherished. She had hope while I had abandonded mine. The Sandpaper Child restored my hope, and God is using her to heal my heart. God knew exactly what he was doing when he chose each one of my children. He chose each of them to heal me........to bring me closer to Him.

We didn't rescue three beautiful orphans, they rescued me.