Sometimes I wonder...

Derek has beautiful eyes. Big. Dark.

Every once in awhile I catch him looking off into the distance...staring into space...

It's not that my other children never do that. They do. But somehow it seems different. And it makes me wonder.

I catch myself wondering about his eyes.

With Derek I often wonder what those eyes saw before he saw us. I wonder what made them cry before it was "boo-boos", and sibling rivalry, and going upstairs for naptime. I wonder if those eyes ever had to hunt for a morsel of food. I wonder it those eyes ever searched for water. I wonder who was the first to look deep into those eyes. I wonder what it was like for him to have known someone else's eyes and then not to see them again. I wonder.

We don't know much about Derek's first year of life. We know he was very, very small when he came into the first orphanage. As a pediatrician I wonder what his first year's growth curve would have looked like. As a mom I wonder how often he was hungry.

I will be honest. I wish I was there from the beginning. I wish I could have been the first set of eyes he bonded with. I wish I didn't have to wonder what his eyes saw and his ears heard. I wish I had some sort of control over that. I wish God would have ordained it that Derek would be adopted into our family when he was just a day old. (Derek was still very young. I know that.) But sometimes I wonder why I couldn't have been his mom even sooner.

Today I read this blog post from Katie (who, by the way, humbles me with every single blog post!) and was so encouraged. Especially by this part (in reference to one of her adopted daughters):

But I know that is not how God intended it.

He did not choose me for those moments, He chose me for these. I entered motherhood through a different door, and I get a different kind of stretch marks.

I believe that this is how He has loved us and I do not pretend to know why. But I know that He who did not spare His own Son will also graciously give us all things we need, and so I cling to believing this is for good.

I believe that He held her all the years that I didn’t. I believe that He stood beside her in the line for porridge that the UN workers passed out, and I believe that He clasped her hand as she made the long journey from Arua to Masaka without her first momma, and I believe that she leaned her head into His shoulder as she fell asleep on hard dirt floor...

I love that! What a fresh reminder of God's love and care for each of us.

Every. Single. Moment. :)