Ryan is a boy. A very active, energetic boy. Some might say, 'a handful' ;)
Ryan looks different that me, so people often look at us different and ask different questions of us.
Ryan is four- curious, adventurous- and four.
I have learned so much from Ryan. I've learned about love, patience, anger, sadness, and healing. I've learned about teaching boys to pee standing up, reading books about trucks and tractors, play fighting with sticks, and have learned some crazy karate and dance moves. I love his laughter, his big smile, and his pure joyful spirit.
Ultimately- as with all human stories- I find that our story is one of brokenness and wholeness- of holes and holiness.
Last week we were at a beach in Corpus Christi when a group gathered next to us. About twenty Filipino people gathered- families laughing, playing, enjoying vacation. The women sat in a group of chairs laughing and talking, the men sat in the back watching
and sharing. The kids played in the sand, building castles and digging.
Watching this community my heart ached for Ryan. I ached for the loss of his Filipino culture, that he will never have a mom whose face looks like his, who makes lumpia and chicken adobo, and serves fish for regular family meals. Who laughs and sings in Tagalog and dances traditional Filipino dance.
The reality is that as much as we try to ensure he knows the Filipino culture, he will never know it as he would being raised in it.
Now, I know this is not the future he would have seen in the Philippines. Born in an area of extreme poverty, and brought to an orphanage at 5 days old- this family is not the family he could have ever
experienced there. I know the gift of his life here. I know the gift he is to our family.
But that does not take away the holes.
As we journey together, Mama and son, I hope I can recognize the holes, while also living fully into the holy joy of loving relationship.
That's what family is about- right?
We are all full of holes and holiness.