How in the world has it been five years since I sat in my kitchen writing this post as we anxiously awaited the arrival of our son? Five years seems like just yesterday, but it also seems like so long ago.
A little boy – given to me by God – through the miracle of adoption; he has changed me.
I’ve never loved so fiercely, been frustrated so easily or needed Jesus so desperately.
Our story isn’t what I pictured it would be.
I didn’t think our life would be filled with so many challenges and so many therapy appointments.
I didn’t think I’d make so many mistakes as a mother.
The past five years have been hard and messy, but also holy and meaningful.
It’s been worth battling the insurance company to get the coverage Jackson needs.
It’s been worth the miles I put on my car driving him to and from therapy appointments.
It’s been worth going round and round with the school district to make sure his IEP is being followed.
It’s been worth the late nights I’ve stayed up with my nose in a book – not the one I wanted to read – but the one that made me an expert on Jackson’s disorders.
It’s been worth the million peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I’ve made.
It’s been worth the meltdowns.
It’s been worth it because I’ve seen miracles.
He’s a little boy who perseveres. He never gives up.
He’s a little boy, that after years of hard work, has finally found his voice.
He’s a little boy with a great imagination and a heart full of joy.
He’s a little boy who gives the best hugs.
He’s a little boy with a silly sense of humor.
I witnessed a miracle the day Jackson was placed in my arms.
I’ve witnessed many more in the five years that have followed.
Today we celebrate the little boy who has changed our world.
We celebrate the story God continues to write for our family.
A story I wouldn’t change for the world.