From the Draft Pile: I'm blind...

(Many times I stay up much later than my family, typing away on the keys of my laptop.  Words... I am a girl of words and I often have trouble sleeping until they all spill out across the screen.  Some days the words don't come as easily as others.  Some days I have trouble keeping up with my thoughts despite the fact that I type more than 70 wpm.  Not everything is published.  In fact, I'm embarrassed to say how many of my posts stay in draft form.  But I figured I'd start sharing some periodically... This is one of my favorites.) 

A few days ago, we were stopped by a stranger and asked what country we adopted from.

I've quickly learned that not every question asked has a friendly agenda behind it. So I said, "Actually his adoption was a domestic adoption, right here in Richmond, why do you ask?" with a puzzled look on my face.

The stranger said "His skin sure is brown!"

Caught off guard and not sure what to say, I smiled and we went on our merry little way.

But later in the quiet my wheels really started turning and I couldn't place my finger on why I was thinking about this interaction so much. He is biracial. His birthfather is African American and his birthmother is Caucasian. But when I hold his hand in mine, I don't see his skin. I'll even admit that at times, I forget that we adopted at all!

Why? Why don't I see it?

I look in his chocolate brown eyes and I see my husband's eyes. I look at his expressive eyebrows and I see Julianne's eyebrows. We play monster face with him and I see Brandon's silly monster face. When he is being extra sweet and bats his long fluffy eyelashes, I see baby Lainey's eyelashes that used to flutter slower and slower until she drifted off to sleep. When I hold his sticky hands, I see Julianne's dimples on the back of his hand. I see my smirk as he tests boundaries with us. I hear Brandon's deep belly laugh when I tickle Xander.

I see these things because LOVE has blinded me. I see my son - my oldest son. The little boy that has given me a thousand heart attacks from his climbing, jumping, flipping action packed life and he isn't even two yet! I see a blessing that I'm thankful for every single day. I see a little boy that when he says, "My mama" a lump forms in my throat and it takes multiple times for me to swallow it down. I see a little boy that loves me so much he is willing to share his most prized possession ever with me: the calloused left thumb that he sucks. I see a sweet boy that pats my back when he gives hugs and who is fiercely protective of all of his siblings. I see my 23 month old that is torn between being a big boy and sitting in mama's lap in the rocking chair, just one more time.

And sometimes when I watch him, I drift off into thinking about the future. I see a young man that causes me to bite my fingernails as he plays his favorite sports. I see a teenager towering over his 5'3" mama. I hear a deep voice. I see broad shoulders, strong arms, and a defined jawline. Of course I have no idea what will happen in our future... but every now and then I let my mind drift to the bittersweet place where my children are older.

This morning I was still thinking about these thoughts and I just stopped to pray. I asked God to show me why this was on my heart so much. And as I started my morning chores, I realized, that I've been beating myself up for "outside" things. God looks within us and He sees our actions. God sees my persistence with teaching my children the Word, He sees my thankful heart, He sees the love I have for my family. He sees that I'm a busy mom but I still make Quiet Time a priority so I can fill myself up with Him and the Word. God loves me!

And just like that all the thoughts swirling in my head went away.

Make no mistake, I know he is biracial. I know his skin is really brown. We make a tremendous effort to live in a part of town with racial diversity. We attend a church with racial diversity and a pretty large adoption community. And I am not ashamed that he is biracial at all. It's just that I, as his mother, see the little boy within his skin and I dream of the day where skin color doesn't matter.

~Stephanie