This isn’t how it’s supposed to end.
Something happened yesterday that probably gave me a shock of gray hair right down the middle of my head.
We live in a subdivision with construction at the end of the block. During daytime hours we have a constant stream of dump trucks and flatbed trucks going up and down our street loaded down with heavy materials.
Our house sits in a slight curve of the road and the trucks go fast around it without slowing down. The speed limit is 25 mph, but everyone usually goes 35 or 40.
He was laying down in the curve of the road, flat on his back.
In front of oncoming construction traffic.
Let’s just add this moment to the list of things I never want to experience ever again in my life.
Once inside safely I asked him what the heck he was doing and he didn’t answer. I told him we would be so sad if he got run over because we love him.
For a split second he looked stricken. I will never forget the look in his eyes.
He burst into tears and buried his face in my chest.
Then he started acting hyper and goofy, which is how he copes and hides his emotions.
I’m terrified now. We only have a few days left of summer hosting. He leaves August 28th. I’m trying to watch him as closely as possible, but it’s hard with three other kids.
What if he…I can’t even think through this.
And once he goes back to Ukraine, where no one watches him or cares about him? What then?
One in ten eastern European orphanage “graduates” commit suicide.
There is no available therapy, medication, or suicide watch. There’s nothing, there’s little hope for change in the situation that’s causing so much distress in the first place.
I’m powerless to help him.
Please pray for my boy.