Week 4 started today, and while the whining started, tempers flared a few times, and some of the excitement is gone, overall things are still going well (by ABRO definitions, that is). I think it's a bit funny that I've had a child/teenager in tears twice the last two days, and yet I'm pleased that in 4 weeks that's all. PROGRESS!! Whoohoo! (Last year he cried at least once a week, and sometimes for hours at a time, and over the craziest things.) And I'm not too bothered by the fact that he's crying because I made him share. Build a bridge and get over it. Too bad I don't know how to say that phrase in Russian.
It's these days when reality sets in that are the hardest. They are only here for 6 weeks and come from a totally different background with a totally different set of values. I think we make an impact in their lives, but as a former ABRO child has said, "You're not going to change them in 6 weeks." And she's right. No matter how badly I want to share with them our reasoning for certain rules, the language barrier isn't going to allow it, plus the fact remains that they are children. No matter that a rule is simple, common sense, to them it will always be an irritant command. And to some degree, even after four summers, trust is and probably always will be an issue. I can reprimand them for something and after supper when I offer dessert they look surprised when they get some. And if we punish them by witholding video games or a bicycle for one day (for fighting or calling each other really bad names), on day two they'll come up with fear in their eyes and ask, "Mom, today me video?" as if they've been banished for life. And they'll ask that everyday the rest of the summer.
These are the days I struggle inside all over again, the days I remind myself that we live in a broken world, and that broken things hurt. These are the days when I have to stop and reflect on God's direction in my life, and admit once again that He is my Great Physician and knows what is best. This is not how I would run the world. If it were up to me, every parent who seriously neglected their child or abused them would drop dead. Or better yet, God would simply not allow them to have children. And everyone who wants children could not only have them, but have the resources and physical abilities to care for them. If it were up to me, every Mom to be who considers aborting her child would miscarry, and God would then in turn give a barren woman that child. It angers me that some women spurn the gift within them while others just simply long for a gift.
I'm thankful it's not up to me. For by my justice system, God might then turn the tables and say, "You Glutton, you will now live in a land of famine." After all, wouldn't that serve me right for eating too much while there are people who are hungry or starving?
And on that note, I have to go finish supper for my hungry summer kids.
It's these days when reality sets in that are the hardest. They are only here for 6 weeks and come from a totally different background with a totally different set of values. I think we make an impact in their lives, but as a former ABRO child has said, "You're not going to change them in 6 weeks." And she's right. No matter how badly I want to share with them our reasoning for certain rules, the language barrier isn't going to allow it, plus the fact remains that they are children. No matter that a rule is simple, common sense, to them it will always be an irritant command. And to some degree, even after four summers, trust is and probably always will be an issue. I can reprimand them for something and after supper when I offer dessert they look surprised when they get some. And if we punish them by witholding video games or a bicycle for one day (for fighting or calling each other really bad names), on day two they'll come up with fear in their eyes and ask, "Mom, today me video?" as if they've been banished for life. And they'll ask that everyday the rest of the summer.
These are the days I struggle inside all over again, the days I remind myself that we live in a broken world, and that broken things hurt. These are the days when I have to stop and reflect on God's direction in my life, and admit once again that He is my Great Physician and knows what is best. This is not how I would run the world. If it were up to me, every parent who seriously neglected their child or abused them would drop dead. Or better yet, God would simply not allow them to have children. And everyone who wants children could not only have them, but have the resources and physical abilities to care for them. If it were up to me, every Mom to be who considers aborting her child would miscarry, and God would then in turn give a barren woman that child. It angers me that some women spurn the gift within them while others just simply long for a gift.
I'm thankful it's not up to me. For by my justice system, God might then turn the tables and say, "You Glutton, you will now live in a land of famine." After all, wouldn't that serve me right for eating too much while there are people who are hungry or starving?
And on that note, I have to go finish supper for my hungry summer kids.
Comments
As to your comment to me- we will never tire of Clayton, we are so glad to be back to normal life :)
WE will bring the DVD player tomorrow night. I did not realize you would be travelling with the kids...I hope you survived with out the DVD's :(