It's something of a miracle, but you might not understand. I only know that change happens from the inside out, and I so rarely am allowed glimpses inside the heart of my son.
Here's the miracle. The phone rang. It was for my boy, and he sat down on my bed to chat with a friend while I typed on my computer close by. I heard, "Yes, we have a football, but it belongs to my dad. I'll ask him if we can use it."
This is the point I felt a lump forming in my throat. I turned my head, so my son wouldn't notice the salty drops about to spill from my stinging eyes. What's so darn touching about his statement? Enough to bring me to tears? Isn't it a common thing for children to ask to borrow something when it doesn't belong to them?
Not for him.
From his rough start as a foster child, he's claimed sole ownership to whatever he saw or touched in our home no matter whom it belonged to. He owned the world and we other mortals simply occupied his space. Our family has pulled together through good counsel to gently coax him to another way of being more a part of us rather than living separately. His comment above is evidence that something, no matter how small, has shifted.
In one of our counseling sessions with him this summer, my son stated what seemed to be a heart felt, "I want to really be part of this family." At the same moment of his declaration, a small butterfly came from nowhere and landed on our son's heart. No one spoke, but we smiled deeply at one another. After the butterfly took flight from her rest on my child's chest, one of the counselors whispered, "I wonder if that was a sign?" As if on cue, the little yellow butterfly returned a second time on my son's shirt over his heart. Of course, we all savored the moment.
I'd call our road rocky with this son, but isn't it lovely that there have been butterflies and other miracles along the way?