It shows itself at such unexpected times, this matter of trauma. When life is good, and we are happy, laughing, talking about all of life’s hopes and possibilities, suddenly tears stream down his face and he asks, “Why did I get this life? Why didn’t I die?”
Sometimes I forget how close to the surface those thoughts will always be for him. Experiencing starvation, and orphaned by disease, those traumas never completely fade. I wish I had all the answers for him when he wrestles with this mixture of gain and loss.
I hold him close and whisper, “It wasn’t your time, Sweetheart. All the days ordained for you were written in God’s book before one of them came to be.(Psalm 139:16) He has plans for your life. Plans to give you hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11)”
He wonders aloud what his life’s purpose will be, and I remind him, “There is plenty of time.”, and I thank God for every ounce of time that He has granted me, to be these sweet boys’ Momma.
Time is in God’s hands.