I would love to think the world is a painting.
Blended together with strokes of grace.
Intertwined with a great array of flavor. Each pallet magnificently complimenting the other…
But it just isn’t so.
We are not a mixing bowl…as I would like to think….
Adoption has taught me.
My youngest, African American daughter, exposed…to people, circumstances, and situations…
I never would have imagined so….before adopting.
Though I grew up in a beautiful tapestry of diversity.
My family: Hispanic, Caucasian, Hybrids, and African American.
I am now realizing….my daughter….experiences struggles all her own.
….Simply because of the color of her skin.
Story time, our first encounter. The teacher told everyone to get in a circle.
All held hands. Except the little girl next to my daughter.
She refused.
With looks of disgust.
When another insisted. The mother declared….
“She doesn’t have to hold her hand if she doesn’t want to.”
And the uncomfortable silence pierced the room….to let everyone know….
Racism still exists.
Youngest One was three at the time. Sweet. Shy. So loving.
Again, just the other day. Girls. My daughter…like an only child was so eager to play with them.
But they ran away.
They looked at her. Gave a scowl and ran away. She followed…thinking they were just having fun.
But they weren’t. They were being mean.
I was watching.
Again, two days ago. At a store. Trying on shoes. My daughter happy because it’s time for school.
And another girl came up to her and stared.
I smiled as usual. Hoping for dialogue to draw a bridge between her hard looks in this cold store.
But…she just kept standing two feet from my daughter and glaring.
Her mom close by.
Discomfort entered. My daughter….trying to be nice.
But then a billowing voice from a blonde one with curls….shocked me…
“You are never coming to my house!”
I couldn’t believe her words. They hadn’t even talked. Yet, this child somehow seemed assured.
And I questioned her…surprised….as if I didn’t hear her words….
And she repeated….
“You can’t ever come to my house.”
I was floored. Her mom stood close.
She had heard.
…And my dear, sweet one squirmed…..uncomfortably….and just kept trying on shoes.
And I realized…
Racism still exists.
People are prejudice.
The World does see color.
As I ache inside at the thought of a six year old…having to face a world so mean. Glaring. Staring. Ignoring.
As if she was from outer space.
For no reason….but the color of her skin.
And righteous indignation surfaced….like Martin Luther in His speech…“I have a dream”.
I struggle laying down my own anger. My own sorrow…for a world so mean. So cruel.
Then, last night. Movie with friends. In line. A grown woman. Half my size. A midget. In front of me.
And I hear God trying to speak…..but I am still so mad. So hurt. So broken….at the thought of my daughter’s battle unforeseen.
But then, He whispers….
“Prejudice is found in many ways.
Not just in color. But handicapped people. Or older people. Or overweight people. Or people who are too tall…or too short. Or too poor.
The list goes on and on.”
And I see…
It’s not about me…
But a world where there is broken people….struggling to belong…
So they segregate. Divide. Covering up for their own insecurities inside.
They hide…in their own image of perfection….whatever that may be…..In order to feel safe.
And I go in. Hesitantly. To the movie…”The Help”.
A little fearful knowing…..I still have issue with my daughter…..and those offended by her color.
Yet, there I witness the most unbelievable site. A movie portraying the truth of people’s hearts.
Discrimination. Segregation. Social regulations….
All based on color.
And I had wished the movie was from centuries ago…
But it wasn’t.
It was only fifty years ago. From the time of my dad. A time not so long ago…
Traces of these attitudes still……in our societies.
And, I remember the common theme of my daughter with these children…
The parents. It was always the parent accepting and supporting their child’s rudeness.
And I longed even more for the world to see each other through God filtered eyes.
And Heaven beckons for Grace’s hour….where they will be no more tears. Or hate. Or divide.
Just love.
Love painted with the colors of Christ.
Love complimenting the diversity in His eyes.
Love revealing the Creativity of His Mind.
Instead of separation.
Segregation. Peoples desperate attempt to put others in shallow boxes…of hate.
And tears stream as I so hesitantly, most painfully confess….something I cringe at and have to painfully admit…
My ancestors were slave owners. Kind ones. But slave owners….nevertheless.
And what justification is there to say they are good. Any man enslaving another is never good.
And I want to wash away the filth of my family line. And squirm knowing….somewhere along the line…
My family too were the accusers. Blinded by color.
And I take His name through prayer and wrap it around my wound.
Repenting for the racism in the world.
The racism in my family.
The racism….we all have…toward something….or someone…in our hearts and heads.
And I grab my own family in minds eye….and hold them closer to my beating chest.
Loving their beautiful colors….
Choosing not to retreat in hates calling. Or peoples natural tendency to fall into an idealistic world made up of their own faults…
But recreate what family is. What beauty is. What love is.
Using my family…
Showing the world……
All are beautiful.
Each face….each name….each person….is a masterpiece of God.
And we can exist. One. United. As the King once proclaimed…
By the help of His Spirit…undivided…
So the content of one’s character is what is remember…..
Not the color of one’s skin.
(Linking with Ann, Hear it on Sunday, Use it Monday, Laura @ Wellspring, On, In, & Around Mondays)
13 Comments
Oh my heart wants to leap through the pages and give you and your little one a big hug. This is truly sobering.
How often as moms we have to come to God to know how to help our kids process their lives. It is one of my favorite things about being a mom … and I still do it with my adult daughters.
Praying for grace and wisdom for you … this is a hard one.
Fondly,
Glenda
Barbie – Thanks. Consider the hug received. 🙂
Glenda – Yes, much needed…wisdom and grace. My prayer too that one day, my girls, however old, would seek me out to process it all. One of the greatest gifts of mothering…for sure.
It just shows how much this world needs Jesus. Every aspect of racism and prejudice is horrifying to us. How much God must weep when He sees his creations tearing each other down. When we are all beautiful creations of His. You are right though, we as parents are responsible for how our children see others. I can only hope that this next generation sees people better, through Godly eyes.
Jen~I feel your pain…I know your pain. Our youngest, adopted is African American. He is only 6, but he has been judged by the color of his skin since he was an infant and I was proudly strolling around with him. Folks would smile at me and then peek into the carriage and the smile would vanish. Or I would be holding him proudly in my arms somewhere in public like any mom on any given day and sometimes folks would look at the two of us, so very different in appearance yet so very same in our hearts, and we would get a look of disgust. Nothing hurts more than knowing your child is not accepted simply because of the color of their skin. He is a wonderful, earnest little boy, who just doesn’t get it when kids run away from him at the campground we belong to. I have seen boys his age whispering to each other and pointing at my little man as if it is the first person of color they have ever seen. One time when Jay was itty bitty, perhaps 3, he was laughing and running with the other kids in a playground and everyone was chasing each other. Jay joined in and began chasing too. One little boy let out a frightened scream and started to cry. Momma picked him up and left, rather than explain to her child that my child was the same as him, except his skin was different and there was nothing to be afraid of. Oh, I could go on and on…but! I am happy to say that we have me just as many families that accept us without reservation and love us for who we are and not what we are. My babyboy has also taught me about my own deeply hidden prejudices…I can remember walking into a fast food restaurant in South Carolina a few years ago. There were about 5 African American teenagers hanging about and I’m ashamed to say my initial reaction was to look away, no eye contact. When all of a sudden reality clicked in and I thought, MY GOD! They could be my son…they ARE someone’s son! And I looked at each of them, smiled and said hello. They smiled back and greeted me as well. HUGE wake up call. Forgive the babbling…had to get my 2cents in. I wish you and your family everything good in life.
Oh Jen….this breaks my heart…I must say…I would have put kids in a different category from adults…much more excepting of differences. and yes…I am guilty of judging too much on outward appearance…I long to see people painted with the colors of Christ…thanks for this hurt wrenching post…it sharpens my heart to cry out for His love…always…
oh, this is such a sad truth: racism…want to say “sorry” and give your girl and you a hug, like Barbie…
You have the heart of a saint. So pure that you feel the hurt of your child who doesn’t understand racism, and you want to shield and protect her from that hurt. The fellowship of his suffering comes in many shapes, sizes, and colors.
Racism today has been a popular speach topic for my year 11 English class- I’m glad that a few are raising the awareness of others that this nasty trait is still very much in our midst in many shapes and forms.
May I suggest praying over your DD
[darling daughter] Luke 10.31: and they shall tread on snakes and scorpions, and NOTHING SHALL BY ANY MEAN HARM THEM.
I also use this verse: and any voice that rises up against me in judgement shall be proven to be in the wrong.
Our world is such a fallen place!
I know you will hear the voice of the Lord giving you wisdom to help your daughter to be able to rise above such prejudice:)
Do you know Habitat for Humanity? They are building a house for “my” Burmese refugee family and in school assembly yesterday a check was presented to habitat from our school for their house. their daughter attends out school, and was with me up the front.
Sadly today she has been tormented with students asking her why her family is so poor. She’s like a grand-daughter to me, and I was devastated to hear of this happening 🙂
Brownie – Oh yes, that we might see each other through God eyes.
Deb – Your thoughts are so appreciated! Your story sounds exactly like mine. The looks, glares etc. However, the joys of adopting trans-racially exceed it all. I could write a book on that alone! 🙂 May God bless you & strengthen you, offer you peace and witness as your family is a walking emblem of the beauty of the diverse and most beautiful tapestry of God!
Ro – I know, it definitely makes me look at any prejudices I might have and helps me to love others better…like the the tiny women in the movie line. His timing is always perfect!
Dolly – Your hug received also, friend! 🙂
Debra – Oh, I am far from a Saint…just ask my husband or any of my kids. Lol Your words…”Athe fellowship of His suffering”…stick to me like glue this morning. Oh, what prejudices Our Glorious Savior faced. And here…now….who am I to complain.
Mary – You absolutely can suggest a verse! Love it! Will post it in my cupboard to look at & recite! 🙂 Uugh. My heart just sunk to the ground reading your story. So sad that your sweet one has to endure that. Prayers for grace, love, and mercy to flow to her and through her. Praying that verse over her as well. And yes, Habitat for Humanity is a wonderful organization! Bless it Lord…abundantly!
Oh, Jen, beautiful and so sad. I ache with the reality of this, of what your daughter must face. Blessings.
P.S. I hope you will come by the blog for a giveaway and to read Emily Wierenga’s story there, to help me celebrate the release of her book today!
Your like your post b/c you have used the beautifull words like the world is a painting etc.
Thanks you.
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