Bringer of Peace.

I have abandonment issues. Oh geeze, I always hated people who said that. I always wanted to gag at the whole bleeding heart sob story. The past is the past. You can't change the past. So you move on and let it go. Acuna Matada. Right? Well over the past year and a half-ish, I have learned that the past very much affects the right now. I have had many things to process that have left me at arms length from a few family members.

When things get to hard to process, I shut down. I shut down until I feel pushed to far then I explode, blowing up bridges and leaving gaping nuclear bomb sized gaps. I walk away engulfed in flames and raising both middle fingers. I feel better. But it doesn't fix the issues that I refused to process in the first place. And lo and behold they come back and slap me in the face. Go figure.

I have parenting issues. They are likely related to my abandonment issues, or maybe I'm just codependent. Perhaps I hated my step fathers at one time or another, or completely all together and therefore am afraid of how my husband is a step father to my older boys. Maybe I see his abandonment issues in his family, or how he was raised by his step father and it makes me very paranoid about the treatment to my kids. Maybe I grew up living like it was Disney Land and I am overly sensitive.

Or maybe I over analyze the crap out of every relationship in my life. Likely it's something in between these being real issues and me over analyzing.

But the point of this post is something that hit me pretty hard today...that I keep thinking about. When this crisis hit, none of that mattered. My mom (with whom I share my issues) didn't hesitate to step up. My husband, is not only caring for me so I can care for our son, but he is actually very attentive my other kids. Kids that aren't technically his. He hugs them, and talks gently to them, and it is the most attractive thing I have seen in my life. This whole family had many days that teetered on the edge of crumbling. My mom and I didn't talk for half a year.

Friends of friends and friends of family, strangers from churches I don't even attend, and random angels that roam the hospital floors all have blessed us with so much love and support. I can't even name the people, or the walks of life they come from who all are pulling for the same goal...and that goal is my son. I can't wrap my mind around the hundreds of people literally hundreds who are lifting him up in prayer and in light and love daily.

Then it dawned on me. His name. The one we chose months ago after pondering many. It's Oliver. It's derived from the term Olive branch. The symbol of peace. Here is why they say it's the symbol of peace: Olive trees grow very slowly and take many years to start producing quality fruit. Therefore they can only be grown during times of peace, not during times of war when land is wrecked and there is famine, people don't have time to nurture and grow Olive trees during war.

Our little boy can only be grown in an environment of peace. And he is growing very slowly, and he may take many years to produce quality fruit. Not only has this little boy brought healing and peace to my mother and I, but also to my husband and children. None of that other stuff really matters anymore. That is a miracle. We live in this upside down, totally insane world right now, and yet there is peace. There is love between us all. There is peace with Oliver's growth and fruit, however and whenever that fruit grows. There is acceptance and the freedom to nurture and love. And in all of that is slowly growing and perhaps even beginning to thrive...a little boy named Oliver who's name suits him so well in so many beautiful ways.

May you find peace today as you walk through the journey laid before you...

Oliver, my little bringer of peace. What a peaceful, loving family and home you now have waiting for you. Grow strong my baby tree. Open your branches and grow with all you are, so we can all welcome you home soon.