Look For The Sparkles

We've been going through some pretty challenging things lately. Things that when you first held that wrinkly newborn you would have never imagined. Things that have me thinking about what life will be like 10 years from now and what I could have done differently 10 years ago. Things that make me wonder, honestly, why someone would want to have children. Please don't get me wrong. I love my babies with my entire being, and would never change a thing about them. But sometimes, it is cruel and unusual punishment. I once heard "Having a child is like your heart walking outside of your body". I might also add that it's like your brain going along with your heart. Sometimes, my mind and heart are pulled in 5 different directions. I want what is best, and when I feel I have done that, there's always doubt. The doubt may come from within,or the doubt may come from other people's opinions.

I have started looking for "sparkles". Sometimes the sparkles find me! They are little glimmers of hope. It can happen at anytime, anywhere. It can show up as a new accomplishment, or a glimmer of light that I feared was gone but shows up and makes me smile. Every time I see it, I make a conscious effort to stop in my tracks and Thank God. I feel it's his way of helping me to see that all is not lost. They are not lost. I am not lost.

A new accomplishment.
An unexpected kindness and connection.
A steadfast spirit with a kind word when I might have not been so kind.
A heart for God no matter how the enemy wants that heart to be broken to bits.

And so, I tell myself,

You are doing all you can.
You always will.
You are a good person and you are good enough.

Don't let anyone convince you otherwise. The sparkles prove this.
Look for the sparkles in your life.

Just a Friend

I didn't grow up knowing "things". Some of those things were important. I'm not sure why I wasn't taught these important things. Was it to protect me? (probably not) It's more likely that issues weren't discussed because they were uncomfortable. Let's just say for the grown-ups in my life, talking wasn't a strong point.

Fast forward many years and I'm a mom. Like most of us, we want to raise our children better than we were raised. Even for some who had a great childhood, this can be true. But if you're not taught some things as that child, it can show when you are an adult.

Some good friends were over a couple of years ago. (You know who you are, and you're probably going to kill me for saying this AGAIN, but my ignorance sometimes shocks me) My friends have two GREAT kids. They were adopted. The boy was fooling around making silly noises and running around, and we were laughing with him. The boy is African-American and I made an inappropriate comment. A comment that I didn't know was wrong. A comment that could be considered racist. The boy didn't hear me. My friend immediately recognized that I didn't know what I said. She graciously explained the meaning of it and I was horrified. WHAT? I didn't know. The next day I talked to her, cried, and aplogized (again) for being so ignorant. I'm sure she's tired of hearing this, but I tend to be hard on myself and that is something I will never forget.

Fast forward again, two years later.

The other day, I was in Walmart and we were at the checkout. While we were walking away, Zack (8) says "That boy had POOOFY hair!" I explained that because he is African-American, his hair has a different texture and when it grows, it's like that, and that's the way he wants to wear it. Zack then said, "That's cool! I want hair like that". I told him that his hair can't grow like that. He told me that sometimes when his friend's (the above mentioned boy) hair grows, it's a little poofy like that. "Yes honey, that's because he is African-American." You should have seen his face.

WHAT?

Zack: But mom, then he's adopted?
Me: Yes...(I thought he knew, but why would he?)
Zack: Oh
Me: You know how his mom and dad have the same skin color as us?
Zack: Yes
Me: And your friend has dark skin?
Zack: Yes

The conversation continued for a few more minutes, and I realized something.

He never saw the color of his skin. He just saw his friend. It didn't matter that his parents are white and that his friend wasn't. His friend was his friend, that's all. He belonged to his mom and dad, no matter what his color was.

Oh how I wish that's how everyone thought over the age of 8.

But, it also got me thinking.

I also didn't care about someone's color growing up. It wasn't because of some lessons I was taught, it wasn't intentional, it just was the way it was. While watching Gone With the Wind and The Help recently, I was appaled. My husband laughed at my seemingly non-existant American History education. And because these important things weren't discussed, I wasn't taught the valuable lessons that would have made my first example non-existant.

 How do I expand on this revelation that was made to my son? I need to teach him the important things. It means a loss of innocence for him unfortunately, but I can stand to learn a few things myself.