I haven't been writing much this week. Monday morning I woke up feeling heavy at heart and it has stayed with me all week. I don't like writing when I feel like this because I don't want to be depressing. However, I have adjusted to it as the week has gone on and there have been moments of quiet joy and those of His wondrous peace. It took a while for me to get there though. Sometimes I just have to get to that point where I understand perhaps why I'm feeling this way and then I accept it and His peace flows in...
Yesterday I went to early Mass and stayed afterwards to say my rosary and I was reflecting more about mother love.
I was thinking about my own dear children and how I love when they open their hearts to me. They are all different in this regard and I have had to learn how to adjust to each one's personality. When Beth was little, she was usually quick to tell me everything. However, when she came into her midteens, she wasn't as quick to tell me things. I had to learn to wait. At first, it was a bit hurtful, but I learned with time that she just needs time to think through things before she brings them to me. When she is ready, she will come to me and I will hear all about it. (Sometimes late at night when I'm longing to go to bed, but I quietly listen.)
Michael sometimes needs a little prodding but usually not too much. It's a bit more difficult now that he's 16, but as long as no one else is around, he will tell me his dreams and schemes.
John is the most difficult of all. He is such an introvert and has few times when he is open to talking about things. I have to be very gentle, very patient with him. John has been much slower in trusting others with his feelings. Perhaps it's left over from his early days before we adopted him when he was so severely neglected. When we first brought him home, he didn't even cry. In those first two years of his life, his tears had been of no avail, so he had stopped. It took several months before tears would come.
I have often thought how those first two years of his life will scar him for the rest of his days...even though he doesn't remember, consciously, a thing about them.
So I have had to learn to deal with him differently and it has been a slow process for both of us. I had no one to turn to help me through these times and I have made mistakes and his trust was slow in coming, but it has happened and hopefully, will grow even more.
And then there is the one who is the son of my heart....it means so much when he shares his heart with me.
And as I prayed my rosary, I thought of how much it means to me when my children trust me with their hearts; their feelings, their thoughts, their dreams...
And I realized a bit how much it means to our dear Blessed Mother when we trust her the same way.
A blessed, peaceful Sunday to all.....