So I don't know if it was the juxtaposition of the overindulgence that comes with Santa Claus compared to his history that did it, but I wouldn't be surprised to learn that was exactly the trigger last night.
But he told me many things, most of which we'll keep private...part of his story that he will one day choose to share or not to share.
He did tell me again of water. How he used to have to fetch the water. By himself. At 3 and 4 years old. He remembers walking for so long. Putting the water on his head. He talked about it being so, so heavy. That it hurt his head the rest of the day. I have no doubts this is one of the reasons God put water on my radar so long ago.
Tomas talked about food, or the lack thereof. That "meals" would take mere minutes. "It started and then it was done."
All last night and today I've been thinking about hope. More specifically, how in the hell do Tomas, Binyam and Tariku still have any? I thought about my miscarriage and how I was without hope for seemingly months. I thought about other situations in my past that have left me with little hope to grasp and how none of them compare to the situations in which my sons have found themselves in their short amount of time on this earth.
I have no idea how my boys are still full of hope and joy from some of the stories they tell us. I have no idea how they still look at me with hope in their eyes, that I'll stay, that I'll love them enough, that I'll feed them enough. This amount of hope they have, well it makes no sense to me. But I am so, so thankful they still have that. So thankful when I look in their eyes I see hope and strength shine back at me.
Hope. It's been on my mind the last few days. And then today I read this. Man, how it spoke to me! So I'll link it and post it for you to read. Maybe it's what you need to hear today too.
hope is dangerous.
November 29, 2010 by kathyescobar