Despite being a writer, I haven’t been able to find the words regarding all the Asian-hate in the media as of late. I don’t have the answers, and I know there are people who are so much more knowledgeable in this area than myself.
This I do know: I was raised to see the beauty in our differences. Not to ignore them. Not to tolerate them. But to delight in and see God’s design in the many differences we all have with different hair color, eye color, skin color, and culture. When my little boy says he wishes his eyes were blue like mine, I cannot reiterate enough to him how much I adore his big brown eyes.
I praise God that, for now, my sweet, precious babies can remain unaware of the hatred that exists in the world. We are blessed to be in a community where we feel loved and supported. But we were also conscious when choosing where to live that racism still exists, and were purposeful about avoiding certain areas where we might feel less welcome.
I’m still fleshing out where the marriage of grace and justice happens. Where God’s heart for loving our enemies and forgiving those who’ve wronged us collides with a God who also longs for rightness and for his people to display the way of his Kingdom. He isn’t a God of either/or. He is a God of both mercy and righteousness.
In the meantime, I will raise my children to meet hate with love. To stand up for justice. To be the light in the darkness. They will receive the message that they have been beautifully and wonderfully created by their Heavenly Father. And I will continue to seek the face of God for all the brokenness that exists amongst his people. God knows, we need Him.