Zack

This is the face.

The one that makes me laugh.

The one that makes me smile.

The one that makes me furious.

5 years ago when I met him, he was someone else's boy. Legally, he and his brother belonged to someone else. I knew different. I knew that they were mine.

This is the face that I saw when I walked down the stairs in the church that February day in 2003. These are the eyes that peered at me and seemed to look straight into my heart. These are the eyes that I saw each night in my dreams when I would pray and ask God, "Are you sure that we can do this...can we adopt 2 boys?" My answer always came with a peaceful, calming feeling and a vivid memory of these eyes.

This is the smile that I longed for every Monday-Friday. I knew that we could pick them up from their foster parents and have them as ours for only a weekend at a time. We would drive up to find 2 dirty little boys playing in the yard, waiting, hoping, wanting someone to come and take them away. This is the smile that filled my innermost being with love when he saw me and realized, "She came back for us" every single Friday. When we had to take them back each Sunday night, I felt like my very soul was being torn in two pieces. As he cried, we would promise, "We'll be back in 5 days." He would take his stubby little hand and hold up 5 fingers, and say, "Dis' many?" We would kiss that little hand and say, "Yeah, that many." As the tears ran down his pudgy little face, this was the smile that radiated like pure sunlight.

This is the nose that I kissed each night as I rocked him to sleep. He was always restless, never at peace. Sleep never came easy for him. I would take him into the office and sit in front of the computer. He liked to watch the fish on the screen saver. That false underworld seemed to bring him comfort. I would rock him for hours, whispering my hopes and dreams for him. I would tell him that no matter what happened, I would always love him deeply. He would finally surrender to sleep, safe in my arms, momentarily at peace and willing to give up the struggle. This is the nose that I kissed and nuzzled, and prayed for a miracle.

My boy is turning 8, and I've only had him for 5 years. Mathematically, it doesn't add up. But it's a perfect equation nonetheless. I've had him for 5 years, but I've known him forever. Since I was put in this world, he's been with me. When God created me, He created Keith and Zack in my heart just as certainly as He created Griffin in my womb. Zack wonders why he doesn't have baby pictures like Griffin does. "Mama, where are my baby pictures?" I don't have any. All the pictures I have are from age 2 1/2 till now. It must be hard for him, having no beginning. Seeing a starting point for his brother, a measurable growth and development captured forever on film. He doesn't have that. Right now, as an almost 8 year old...that is hard for him to understand. But I am certain that as he gets a little older, he'll see what I see. We may not have baby pictures. We may not know when he took his first steps, what his first word was, or how he looked at his first Christmas. We do know that what we have is priceless. We have this amazing boy, transformed from a scared, wounded, abandoned baby. We have this nose, we have these eyes, this smile. We have this face. And we thank God for it daily.

This is the face.

Not captured in a newborn picture.

Not displayed in a first picture with Santa.

Not existing on film at all until age 2 1/2.

This is the face that is forever living in my heart. He makes me smile. He makes me laugh. He makes me furious. He makes me thankful that God's plans are so much bigger and better than any I can even begin to imagine. This is the face of a birthday boy ( on Sunday). Even though I didn't carry him in my belly, this is the face that I have always carried in my heart, even before I knew it. It is his birthday, but he is one of my 3 greatest gifts.