Love, it Comes Back Knocking.

I have the worst memory known to man. If you ever say to me, "Remember when we...?" and I say I do, I might be lying. And I'm sorry. But, for some reason, I remember this song we sang in Kindergarten:

Love Grows, one by one,
Two by two and four by four,
Love Grows 'round like a circle
And comes back knocking at your front door.

Before we met Luyana, I loved her. I loved her in a fierce, almost maddening, give-me-my-child-before-I-hurt-someone sort of way. When we met her, I loved her in a different way than I had expected. In fact, at first, it didn't even feel like love. It was a heavy, almost burden-like feeling of responsibility. In one moment, I was instantly in charge of caring for and providing for all of the needs of someone I had never met and was depending on me. I realized how much of love equals commitment. And boy was I committed. Committed to her well-being and committed to our growth as a mother and daughter.

And I prayed. HARD. I begged God to fill me with different love. I wanted the love that melted your heart and oozed out of you. I wanted the love of a proud mom with adoring eyes.

The other day I was watching her devour an egg roll in the same manner another child might devour candy. I soaked her in the way you might an infant as you nurse him. One by one. This past week, she finally started initiating hugs; good tight, bear hugs. The kind of hug that makes you cry because you know one day they will grow up and will no longer melt into you like that. Two by two. And lately, when we're out in public, I think: "Man, this kid is cute. I hope other people aren't too jealous of how cute of a kid I have". Four by four.

Love, it does grow. And grow and grow and GROW. And we are so blessed.