Staatenlos

Having exchanged hands several times before I landed safely into the arms of my adopted parents, there is no doubt whatsoever that it was all divinely choreographed. I ended up exactly where I was supposed to be. Unfortunately, the trauma and turmoil that was to plague my life didn’t end in those loving arms. I’ve endured much suffering, shed a boatload of tears and climbed countless walls in the years that followed,  until one day I declared, “I don’t do walls any more.”

That’s not to say I don’t still wrestle with melancholy all too frequently, but never to the extent I’d experienced before that day. Rebuking the demons I continue to battle both internally & externally, I’ve learned to recognize my angels. Some are known, others remain nameless.

Some of my angels are steadfast and loyal and help guard both my body & spirit. Some hold my hand and gently guide and encourage. Some run beside me up and down hills and valleys where we share occasional refreshment. Others simply nod or smile and bring light into my life.

If you are reading this, you’re probably one of them and I’d like to thank you from the depths of my heart. If you don’t think this describes you, I’d like to bless you somehow and help dust off your wings.

In my darkest of days, my pastor would remind me to “seek out the roses in the desert.” There were days I thought I’d faint and shrivel up looking for them and was convince I’d settle for the scent of the rose. I’ve become more adept at finding them over the years but there have been occasions when the sandstorms were pretty high and I couldn’t see at all for the stinging stones that filled my eyes.

Recently, I reported to him that at that particular moment, there were so many roses that  there was almost no visible sand. Full of joy, and riding high, I was blindsided again by Murphy’s Law and an apparent force relentlessly stirring up storms and raising sand. I was in the midst of a spiraling downward, confidence somewhat broken when I popped in the video that came yesterday.

My sister was asking her grandchildren (whom I also had never met) what they’d like to say to Aunt Rose when one of them broke into a chorus chanting “I love Aunt Rose.” Next she asked them what it was that they loved about Aunt Rose. They wrestled to come up with answers that would describe their feelings and   some of the responses were, “she’s nice”, “she sings to us on the telephone”, “she makes grandma smile.” The one that moved me most was the wee one that said “because she loves God.”

As I looked into the children’s cake smudged faces,  I recognized I’d been blessed with the most beautiful bouquet!