Teenager!

Zilan's cake...tried to go a little sophisticated for my teenager who is fast becoming boy crazy, clothes crazy and make up crazy.

 I am learning I cannot say NO this family. It drives Tim crazy and half the time I feel totally used by them, but I LOVE them. I just cannot get away from it. I have tried. I have been warned away, but I just keep coming back. I can't stand to see her birthday go by and nobody do anything special for her. I mean, it's not really their culture to celebrate birthdays, but I see it in her eyes, she just wants to be loved. But then there is this other part of her that fights it and pretends she could care less. That's the part of her that needs a spanking, especially after I work 5 hours on a cake and the next day she is "mad" at me for also making another neighbor a cake. But on this day she was happy. At least at this moment she was happy. See....that's the thing. It's NEVER enough. I can't do enough, love enough, say enough to keep her happy. It's not up to me. Jesus has to fill that hole in her heart. A cake, no matter how great will never do it.

 Oh Mama...she loves her girl...but she doesn't know how to tell her or show her.

 This family is marked as special, God has a plan for them to bring hope and life and love to them, but right now their is so much anger and hopelessness. It breaks my heart.

 the partiers

14!

This was part of Nazila's gift to Zilan. I wrote I heart U and then she copied it below. Then I showed her how to write it on a separate piece of paper. The orange writing is the first attempts at a 40 year old mother to write her daughter's name and I LOVE YOU for the first time. She ended up writing it in Kurdish in a little note card, which I didn't get a picture of. But seriously it was such a surreal moment to sit with this momma and help her write. She was so proud of her efforts. I just cannot imagine a life without reading and writing, yet it doesn't really bother her. I thought she might be embarrassed to have me helping her write something so simple, but she wasn't at all. She simply wanted my praise and for me to tell her what a great job she had done. Typically in this culture they stop telling their children they love them around school age. They are just supposed to "know".  Nazila does love Zilan, but she too was not told that her mom loves her. Maybe this will be the beginning of breaking down some of that bitterness. She wrote in the card in Kurdish: I love you. I am your mother. Not exactly what we would call very tender, but there it is PROOF. Proof that she is LOVED. It was a victory, no matter how small.

Annie is such a great example of continuous love. I want to be like her. 

Zilan, may this be the year you find Truth, when your heart stops fighting all the hurt and bitterness inside. He came for you. He LOVES you!