Family Works. AND LIFA'S 10 TODAY!
It’s 5am in South Africa, and it’s Lifa’s birthday!
There’s a pink-swirled sky, and I’m pouring through pictures of baby Lifa before his 10-year old self wakes up.
Soon, the whole family (Chris, myself and Lifa’s visiting biological father) will charge into that superhero room and sing, “Happy Birthday!” But first, I am thanking God for the almost incomprehensible journey we’ve been over the past 8 years.
I’m thanking my Maker that He would trust us to be a family that requires miracles and for my husband who stepped into the role of a father at a capacity I didn’t know existed on this earth. I’m praising our Father that we get to live inside the true miracle of His Family- the one where death, damage, hopelessness breaks off and eyes light up with passions, purpose and promise.
And I’m trying to cope with double digits and how cool Lifa is. You should see him on his new skateboard with his big, yellow headphones.
Jabulani (Lifa’s biological father) has been visiting us for just over a week. It is his first time to see a city, take a shower, see the ocean, mountain, and the wide variety of people and food the Mother City has to offer. It is also his first time to be in a home with a mom and dad.
In the past week, Jabulani has experienced what it’s like to tuck your child in at night, sitting at a dinner table with healthy meals and conversation, and learning how to play The Thankful Game and share daily highs and lows. This week was Jabulani’s first time to play with Lifa. Ever.
After the first few days of crazy-eyed bliss, kicking the soccer ball with his dad and teaching him to play Uno, we are settling into routine here in the Ladd house. Chris and I are making decisions on how to help Lifa create happy memories with his dad for the first time.
This is Lifa’s first time to experience the two dads side by side. Lifa’s pines to have buddy-time with his biological father, play games and hang out. After a short time, he tucks himself between Mom and Dad because he wants to tell everything he’s reading, doing and listening to. He’s rewritten the fantastical expectations he had before his dad came of them going on long dog walks daily, to wanting the whole family together and to keep going to the grocery store with me and running errands with Dad.
He’s subconsciously grappling with why the dads are different. Why it doesn’t feel the same when they play. So are we.
We thought we would be facilitating father-son moments for Lifa. But we’re actually providing the first family experience for Jabulani and creating shared experiences for him and Lifa. They go to bed at the same time and wake up at the same time. We provide the same amount of structure, guidance and care for them both. We teach, encourage and facilitate.
It’s all family.
This year is the first year Lifa has dipped his toes in the ocean of security, family, safety and the abundant life God has for him. He started to understand family since we got married and got a dad. He’s begun to bloom since we moved away from his traumatic past, provided good schooling, and understood the power of grandparent love when Chris’ parents came to visit.
Chris and I rallied yesterday for Lifa. We made decisions on how to continue creating really special moments for Lifa and his dad to share, but for Lifa to not leave the waters of knowing he is cherished and his family is immovable.
Yesterday, I invited Jabulani into the kitchen to watch Lifa and I bake his birthday cake. (Pumpkin orange cake with cream cheese frosting. With sprinkles. This kid’s got great taste.)
As usual, I put on my apron, pulled out the measuring cups, and made Lifa do fractions while we baked. We put on good music, and did what we do. Lifa’s father made videos of it on the new smart phone we got him for Christmas, and licked the bowl with Lifa. We played different types of music for Jabulani to see what he liked, and then they built crazy straws together while I made them hot dogs.
At bedtime last night, I pulled up a video of Lifa from 3 years ago. Toothless, sitting in the dark little cottage we used to live in, scream-singing “I believe I Can Fly”. All four of us sat on Lifa’s Avengers bedspread and laughed while we watched it.
His dad had never known that Lifa. I think it caught Jabulani off guard yestearday as he watched this incredible almost-10-year old bake a cake with noticeable stability next to his mom, skate into new depths of courage alongside his hero dad, and be celebrated in his strengths.
I can’t pretend to know what is going on in his mind. A father’s thoughts? A child’s? A longing for family? Or does he think we’re nuts?
It’s time to go wake up a 10-year old. (Let’s be real – he’s been awake and waiting for us since 5am.) Chris will cook a huge breakfast, and I will be emotional and frost the cake. We will bring his biological father along in all of it. And we will be a family.
Family Works.
It doesn’t have to make sense, meet expectations or be traditional in any sense of the word. It has to protect, provide, and love right where you are, no matter where that is.
Family make a space for everyone, no matter how old they are, where they’ve come from, or what their capacity is. It works, and it’s worth it.
Family changes lives. It writes out fear for freedom. Family ushers in hope. It was worth Jesus dying on the cross for, so it’s certainly worth supervising an Uno game and putting everyone to bed early for.
Let’s be family. It works.