For the past eight months, I have tucked our new ten
year old son into bed nearly every night. I talk to him, tickle him, straighten
his blankets up, give him a kiss or two on the forehead or cheek, tell him
goodnight, and that I love him. Every night, he giggles, squirms, acts like he
doesn’t want a kiss, asks me questions, tells me stories, and tells me
goodnight. But he does not say I love you back. Although during the day he
follows me all over the house, asks Scott ten times when I will be home when I
am gone, and looks at me with these huge adoring brown eyes, he never repeats
the words “I love you” back. But that’s OK, because if he said it the first days
he became ours, it wouldn’t mean as much to me. It wouldn’t be as special. He
is ten after all. He was an orphan his whole life until he became ours. He’s
still adjusting to what it means to have a mom, dad, brother, and sister of his
own…a forever family.
Then tonight it happened. I straightened his blankets,
kissed his adorable little face, and said, “Good night. I love you.” I walked
to the door, and just as I started to close it, a little soft voice said, “I
love YOU.” I barely heard it and didn’t see him say it. But I heard it. Just a
whisper. But that little whisper that I’ve been waiting eight months to hear
means more to me than if he told me the first week we brought him home or if he
had shouted it from the rooftops.
When we couldn’t have any more children biologically after
my first son was born, I truly felt God began to put adoption into my heart.
There were no burning bushes, parting of the seas, or loud booming voices telling
me to adopt. But there were definitely little nudges, whispers if you will. I
am so glad that I listened to those “whispers” ten years ago, as they led to
that beautiful three word whisper I was blessed to hear tonight.
