Joy

I am not sure whether or not to blog anymore. Compared to my life in Zimbabwe, life now is so... ordinary and uninteresting. And yet I am more content and at peace than I can ever remember. I expected to love being a mother. I didn't expect to LOVE being a mother. I never get tired of staring at Kieran, or marvelling at him or feeling complete joy when I am with him. Of course I have moments where I cry along with him or feel completely exhausted, but overall, I am just enthralled with our son and so humbled and blessed to be his mom. I love the word Mommy.

Two weeks ago we attended the funeral of a friend. I was determined to feel joyful at this funeral, because I wanted to celebrate my friend's life. But I cried the whole way through. I believe in Heaven, and that the person is in a much better place. I just find it hard to see the kids and people left behind. The funeral reminded me of too much death and loss that I have experienced. And I think the sadness caught me off guard. Kieran Tinashe has brought me so much joy that the sadness was like a slap in the face. To me, Kieran is joy. At the funeral I held him close. When I think of suffering in the world, I hug Kieran and delight in his innocence. When I was visiting with my sister in the Downtown Eastside of Vancouver yesterday and seeing so many people addicted to drugs with empty eyes, I needed to see Kieran too. I recommend holding a baby. In his little short life I have seen people's faces and moods completely change as they hold his little (but growing) body.

God is so good.