"I want Auntie Crys to be my mommy. I don't want you to be my mommy. I want you to sell me to another family."
She bounces on the knees of my younger sister. Giggling in the uncomfortable silence. I think she sees I'm hurt, but she's five. The rest of the evening passes in a blur of sadness.
The attachment monster rears it's ugly head. It isn't a stranger in our home. We brought it home with us each time we adopted.
I wonder if I will ever be secure in our relationship. When hurting words are exchanged will I forever wonder if it is because I'm not the mother I should be to my injured daughter. With motherhood comes insecurity.
That night I lost sight of the lovely moments. I lost sight of the times she runs to me for comfort. Cuddling on her bed reading. Hugs in the morning. Sitting by her hospital bed, aching with love for my new daughter.
Her words open the door to the enemy. He creeps in and brings heartache. Instead of looking to my Father, who ordained each soul into our family, I dwell on the grief and pain that has been in our little girl's life. I dwell on the brokenness and sin that put her in our family. I should be praising God for entrusting us with these wonderful little people.
I cannot change what brought my children into our family. I cannot fix the years of hurt. I cannot slip into apathy. Daily, with a thankful heart, I must choose to be a vigilant parent. Keeping my eyes on the One who choose us as their parents. Ever trusting Him to provide us with the wisdom needed.
"God setteth the solitary in families: he bringeth out those which are bound with chains..."