I had the amazing experience recently of taking my two year-old Danny to a gathering of his biological family. For the first time in his life he was surrounded by a room full of people who looked just like him with only a couple exceptions. He was loved and fussed over and had beautiful Spanish words spoken over him and he handled it in typical two year-old boy fashion- he mostly ignored it. Which is why I was surprised when all of the sudden he was pushing out of my arms to reach for someone. When I looked down I saw a little boy about three years-old who had the same beautiful chocolate brown skin as our oldest son, Josh. Danny was yelling “Yaash! Yaaash!” and I had to explain to him that that wasn’t his brother. It was a beautiful moment to me to see that as important as his ethnic heritage is to me and will someday be to him, right now he just knows that Josh is his brother. I know the feelings are mutual because the other Sunday Josh saw some friends of his at church who are twins and said, “Hey, they look just the same! Just like me and Danny do!” I love his perspective. Although as his mom I have to be careful how I phrase it. Just the other day when I saw the two of them hugging I told them they were precious to which Josh responded: “We are NOT precious! We are BROTHERS!”
I am so thankful that I have the beautiful experience of being part of an interracial family. I am learning to value and respect cultural differences while also realizing that when you are part of the same spiritual family many of the perceived differences melt away. I imagine that in heaven we will see that all our cultural pieces fit together like a big puzzle that when fully assembled shows the face of our Father.