Parenting the Broken
His warm little head rests on my chest as he breathes a sigh of relief. After a deep struggle with anger, he leans into the rhythm of my heart, his body is turned in towards me...legs wrapped around my sides. hold him in close. As I write these words I'm in tears trying to make sense of this brokenness. The thing is, I didn't want to hold him, I didn't want to rock him, I didn't want to be in the same room with him. BUT I knew it was the very thing he needed to help set him free from the scary emotions that held him captive. Our little four year old adopted son comes from a brokenness that I will never be able to heal or fully understand. THIS task is in the Lords hands. HE has simply chosen me to be this little one's mom. A privilege I often feel like I'm failing at. However, I'm reminded of the verses in Psalms 136. For the sake of sealing it in my own heart; I will type some the verses for you: "Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good. Hi