Windows

Zion presses his face against the cold glass, which steams up his view through the rectangular side window.  His soft brown eyes peer out into the chilly day.  Soon my mother, known to our children as Mor-mor, will appear, to whisk him away on his own short adventure.  They will walk to her house hand-in-hand, jumping into every puddle along the way.  Zion’s pockets will bulge with treasures of leaves the color of flames and stones that to him are more beautiful than any gem.  With chocolate cookie crumbs in the corners of his mouth and his boots packed in mud, he will return home an hour later, content.  

Across the room two immense boxes stand as still as Zion does now. Wide tape stretches to hold each “room” in place, while roughly hewn rectangular windows pierce the cardboard castle.  Earlier in the day Malachi had led his siblings in cutting and taping, then he had directed them to gather from the bedrooms the treasured framed photographs of each of their birth mothers.  Malachi photocopied each lovely face, and then taped the paper pictures to the window squares in the castle.  A flashlight shone down from an elevated piece of cardboard on the roof of the box, so that each exquisite picture could be illuminated. “Mamma,” Malachi had called, “It’s time for you to tour our masterpiece!”

The love and honor our children give to their birth mothers mirrors the way I feel about my own mother.  For when I was a child, she valued me and her life reflected the love of God.  I remember her wise words as she sat with her Bible in her lap in the early morning hours each day, “If you ever wonder about your faith, or the direction others are leading, read what Jesus said and did, then follow Him.”

Each of our birth mothers honored the life inside them.  As I sat in the box, with the photocopies of their beautiful faces surrounding me, I choked back my tears.  Outside I could hear our children’s joyful voices, anticipating my delight over their creation. We never know the outcome our choices will have on others until time gives us the answer, but God’s way of honoring every life will guide us well, always.  

When I think of light and windows, these verses from Matthew 5: 14,16 (NIV) inspire me, “You are the light of the world.  A city on a hill cannot be hidden…In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.”