I'll never forget when Jorja had been home for a few weeks,
we were out and about and she called me "momma".
Someone said to us,
"Ohhh so sweet she calls you momma."
I thought,
well of course she calls me momma,
I mean,
what else would she call me.
But,
as I have grown,
and welcomed two more older boys home
and expect them to call me "momma",
I've begun to wonder...
our girls never knew what a "momma"
was,
yet still accepted me to take this huge place in their life.
Our boys knew their momma.
They have memories of playing with her,
cuddling with her,
talking with her,
her feeding them,
and all of them loving on each other...
and they have memories of losing her.
Nine months ago,
2 strangers walked into their lives,
they were quietly eating their Easter dinner,
and they were told,
"Your momma and daddy are here."
What went through their minds?
Did their hearts skip a beat as they hoped it was their
biological parents?
We have been thankful that they have welcomed us into their hearts
as their
Momma and Daddy.
I love to hear their stories of their time in Ethiopia,
with their biological family
and their family at the orphanage -
their stories did not start when they entered our family,
their story began at birth.
I wish I knew more about their beginnings
and why they react to different things -
like...
why do they giggle out of control
when they see rain!
Donovan says "I just love rain on my tongue!"
or
what scared them so much that walking by
bushes at night
scare them speechless.
I get goosebumps when they call me "momma"
Thank you Lord Jesus
