Headaches and children

Headaches and children. The two go together like oil and water. Hammering a tattoo on the inside of my skull, it all started so early this morning.

“My elbow is bleeding!”

“Cut it out!”

When I was a young man of 20 or so, I would never have dreamed that I would be here. In this place. In this time. When I was a young man, thoughts of children or foster children would have never even come to mind, remote alien landscapes. Now, at 44, here I am. Kids, foster child. Jesus. Church. Inexplicable freedom. (John 8:36 “Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed. Romans 8:2 “For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death.”)

The kids are having a rough morning. Nut Nut seems to be a little grumpy.

“Stop it!”

These are the echoes of their voices. These are the thunderings I hear.

“Stop running in the house!”

Africa seems so far away. Little Nut-Nut still refuses to sleep in her bed that we got her, preferring instead to sleep on the floor. My oldest daughter has chosen to sleep downstairs where it is cool and quiet. My youngest son has a playmate that never stops. Africa seems really. really far away. September is coming and we will know where things are heading for Nut-Nut.

She needs prayer and she needs love. She needs to learn that the world does not revolve around her and that it is improper to seek so much attention, to be the focus of everyone. If you are of believing persuasion, I would ask that you take Nut-Nut into your prayers, and her mother as well. healing I think is the operative word.

I hear silence. Now I can drink coffee in contemplative silence.