I see his color.
He sees his color.
He also sees mine.
Every summer, my boy’s skin turns a very deep, beautiful shade of bronze in the Texas sun. No matter where we go, people comment on it because it is that jaw-dropping.
He loves his “brownie” skin, as he calls it, and he knows how beautiful everyone thinks it is.
I’ve heard it said before that love is colorblind, but I actually think we’ve got that all wrong.
Love doesn’t have to match, but it sure as heck isn’t colorblind. Spend five minutes in a diverse preschool, and you’ll know that even toddlers see color. The difference is that they assign no feeling to it.
We do that.
Society does that.
Bias does that.
I see his color. I love his color. And his color is one of the many things that make him so absolutely freaking beautiful.
When God created this child, in His image, his color was one of the many ways He made him unique. To deny that part of him is to not see him fully, fearfully and wonderfully and gorgeously created.
That’s the beauty of God, isn’t it? He sees us fully, exactly as He created us. He doesn’t overlook any part of us. I think that’s the greatest gift we can give each other – to be fully seen. Fully known. No part of us denied.
I see it. And it’s stunning.