happy is the heart that still feels pain.
darkness drains and light will come again.
swing open up your chest and let it in.
just let the love, love, love begin.
everybody, everybody wants to love.
everybody, everybody wants to be loved.
this week i've been thinking about love. about the moment when i truly realized i loved my kids. not that it came all at once. but there was a point near the beginning or middle of our time here, when i realized i truly loved them. each at a different time, for they are each individuals. and i work with them on an individual basis. that was one of my goals from the very beginning: to get to know each of them as individuals, and not group them when it comes to loving them. ever. and that's just the thing. i do love each of them. individually for different reasons. real love. not a general kind of love for them because of who they are to me, for that is how i love the babies in the hospital that come and go from one day to the next. but rather a specific and individual kind of love, realizing how much i care for a child. i thought about it as i was spending time with one girl. and then i thought about each of my children. and how i love them. and why i love them. and how, despite everything that has happened throughout my summer in romania, at section 2, and with each individual child, i would give the world to my kids if i could. forgetting about everyone else, i devote myself solely to my kids. they are angels on this earth. it's the adults that can make romania scary. but the kids? no. they are the ones that make us feel worthwhile. they are the ones that can put a smile on your face seconds after having brought you near tears. they are the ones who, regardless of the time or the day, will always be happy to see me. the ones who make me laugh for how cute and funny they can be. the ones who will always run up to me as i enter the room in excitement to see me, if they can run. as far as the others are concerned, they are the ones that i hear cooing from the back room as i arrive. the ones that give huge grins as i enter the room and join them. and talk to them. and sing to them. and they love every second, just because i'm there. because i stop for more than a second, and say their names, and tickle them, and massage their unused muscles, and let them be as loud as they please. i think there's something healthy about using your voice. one of my girls sings along with me, in her own way whenever i go back and sing to them. and the others will squeal in excitement and giggles. can you beat that kind of love and acceptance? i would daresay no. everybody just wants to give love and be loved in return. and as for me? i love them. each and every one. i wish i could tell you why. and tell you about each child, and the way they brighten my life. i'm not allowed to publicly, obviously. but just know this: i love them. all 10 bright shining souls.
i tend to forget that i'm working with kids with disabilities. even the most noticeable of disabilities disappear to me as i see my kids for who they are, not for who their bodies would say they are. they're so much more than the bodies and minds their souls have been trapped in. even my kids that seemed nearly unresponsive when i first met them in may have distinct personalities and characteristics. individuality. i forget that some of them can't talk verbally. i forget that some can't move on their own. i forget that some are disabled in anyway, because despite what their body looks like, they are individuals with a soul that shines through. and it's amazing how much can be communicated with only eyes or the slightest of movements. astonishing, really. and yet it happens each and every day. a beautiful thing? yes indeed. in honesty, i'm the one blessed by being able to have met these children. to partake of their beautiful hearts. they're the ones doing me good. providing me with profound insights into the mysteries of eternity. not the inverse. it's all about them. if nothing else, that's what i have learned. these kids are my world. and nothing could keep me from them. after next week, it's likely that i won't see my kids again in this life, which is heart-wrenching. and yet, that's ok. we'll be reunited someday. someday in the eternities when their bodies will be as perfect as their spirits already are.
"A physical body is also essential for exaltation, which comes only in the perfect combination of the physical and the spiritual, as we see in our beloved, resurrected Lord. In this fallen world, some lives will be painfully brief; some bodies will be malformed, broken, or barely adequate to maintain life; yet life will be long enough for each spirit, and each body will qualify for resurrection."
d. todd christofferson, reflections on a consecrated life.
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