The Land of Their Birth
I remember the first time I read Isaiah 43:5-7. I was in a desperate state. My heart longed for another child, and I felt drawn to international adoption. In my research, I felt called to adopt from Korea, but my husband was not completely on board. I cried out to God, “If you do not want to change Bob’s heart, change mine.” My longing was a constant ache that floated just out of reach, and I feared that it would never go away. In desperation, I opened the Bible and read the first words that my eyes fell upon.
Fear not, for I am with you; from the east I will bring back your descendants, from the west I will gather you. I will say to the north: Give them up! And to the south: Hold not back! Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth. Everyone who is named as mine, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.
Upon reading these words, my longing found its foundation in hope. My desire to adopt from Korea was placed in my heart by God, and I knew that eventually, my son from the east would be with me.
Ever since we first welcomed our son, Isaiah, home, my husband and I have dreamed of taking a trip with him to his home country. Five years later, Bob and I traveled to South Korea to pick up our daughter, Emma. This trip only intensified our desire to bring both of our Korean-born children to see the beautiful country where they were born. Nearly eleven years has passed since we brought our daughter home, and in a few weeks, we will finally take the trip.
Bob and I are so excited for our kids to see their birth country for themselves. I can’t wait to take them to the Gyeongbokgung Palace that Bob and I visited the last time we were there. We’re going to take them to a Korean history museum, eat authentic Korean food, shop in the outdoor marketplace, and, most importantly, we’re going to visit Holt International where we will meet with the foster mothers who loved our children first.
As excited as we are to share all of this with our Korean-born children, we are also a little nervous about how this trip will make Isaiah and Emma feel. Since they both were nineteen-months old, they have grown up in a white family. Almost everywhere they go, they are the only Asian people there. Any time our family goes places, their Asian-ness stands out against our whiteness. As we step off the plane a few weeks from now, we will be the minority standing out. I’m excited for them to experience that, but I’m also very aware that looking like everyone else while not understanding them is a whole different experience.
When Isaiah was about five years old, he told me that he wished his eyes looked like mine. Up to that point, he had never expressed his feelings of being different from us. It nearly broke my heart. When I look at my son, I don’t think, this is my Korean child; I think, this is my son. I don’t notice his differentness. I only know that this mother’s heart belongs to him. I held him close and told him how much I loved his Asian eyes. I would never want his eyes to look like mine because then he wouldn’t look like Isaiah anymore.
Since then, I have made a conscious effort to remember that just because I don’t see the difference in my children doesn’t mean that they don’t. I am so very grateful for each of my children. I wouldn’t change a thing about them, especially the circumstances of their births or the way they came to be mine.
We would appreciate any prayers that you could offer for us for both safe travel and for our children’s hearts as we visit the land of their birth. Next month, I hope to share some of our trip with you, so you too can experience the beauty of, not only South Korea, but also the miracle of how our children came to be ours.
Fear not, for I am with you; from the east I will bring back your descendants, from the west I will gather you. I will say to the north: Give them up! And to the south: Hold not back! Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth. Everyone who is named as mine, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.
Upon reading these words, my longing found its foundation in hope. My desire to adopt from Korea was placed in my heart by God, and I knew that eventually, my son from the east would be with me.
Ever since we first welcomed our son, Isaiah, home, my husband and I have dreamed of taking a trip with him to his home country. Five years later, Bob and I traveled to South Korea to pick up our daughter, Emma. This trip only intensified our desire to bring both of our Korean-born children to see the beautiful country where they were born. Nearly eleven years has passed since we brought our daughter home, and in a few weeks, we will finally take the trip.
Bob and I are so excited for our kids to see their birth country for themselves. I can’t wait to take them to the Gyeongbokgung Palace that Bob and I visited the last time we were there. We’re going to take them to a Korean history museum, eat authentic Korean food, shop in the outdoor marketplace, and, most importantly, we’re going to visit Holt International where we will meet with the foster mothers who loved our children first.
As excited as we are to share all of this with our Korean-born children, we are also a little nervous about how this trip will make Isaiah and Emma feel. Since they both were nineteen-months old, they have grown up in a white family. Almost everywhere they go, they are the only Asian people there. Any time our family goes places, their Asian-ness stands out against our whiteness. As we step off the plane a few weeks from now, we will be the minority standing out. I’m excited for them to experience that, but I’m also very aware that looking like everyone else while not understanding them is a whole different experience.
When Isaiah was about five years old, he told me that he wished his eyes looked like mine. Up to that point, he had never expressed his feelings of being different from us. It nearly broke my heart. When I look at my son, I don’t think, this is my Korean child; I think, this is my son. I don’t notice his differentness. I only know that this mother’s heart belongs to him. I held him close and told him how much I loved his Asian eyes. I would never want his eyes to look like mine because then he wouldn’t look like Isaiah anymore.
Since then, I have made a conscious effort to remember that just because I don’t see the difference in my children doesn’t mean that they don’t. I am so very grateful for each of my children. I wouldn’t change a thing about them, especially the circumstances of their births or the way they came to be mine.
We would appreciate any prayers that you could offer for us for both safe travel and for our children’s hearts as we visit the land of their birth. Next month, I hope to share some of our trip with you, so you too can experience the beauty of, not only South Korea, but also the miracle of how our children came to be ours.
