I watched, in utter amazement, as my barely one year old gobbled up a sheet of seaweed. With dark green flakes all over her mouth, cheeks, and hands, she gave me a cheesy, toothy smile and then reached in for more. I grinned. I couldn’t help myself. I hadn’t even tasted seaweed until I was in my 30’s. Honestly, I wasn’t even aware of many cultural foods growing up.
Born and raised in the deep south, a normal meal at my house consisted of canned green beans, hamburger helper, tuna mac, and lots and lots of Velveeta cheese and Campbell’s soup casseroles. Variety was there. For sure. And because TexMex was usually our “out to eat” meal, I considered myself to be culturally sound. But, the truth is, I was actually just comfortable with the familiar. I ordered what I always ordered. I cooked what I had always cooked. In fact, I had never correctly held a pair of chopsticks in my hand or attempted to order anything off an Asian inspired menu, until I met my husband (Crazy thing is, I even visited China in college. But, it pains me to admit that I mostly ate American looking chips and Snicker bars that I found in the local convenience stores while I was there). Yet here I sit, completely in awe as I watch my 4th baby eat her fill of seaweed and cut up chow mein. My boys love seaweed too. They think it’s fun to use chopsticks and they can’t get enough of the meat and noodle dishes. And you know what? I’m not mad about it. In fact, I have grown to really like and often crave the food that my half Japanese husband has introduced me to over the years. Don’t get me wrong, I still cook the casseroles, make the tuna mac, and devour TexMex every chance I get. However, I’m not as afraid of unfamiliar things anymore.
Looking into my kids eyes, eyes that look so much like their dad’s, I’m reminded that we’re all the same. I fail as a mother so often. I raise my voice, I let the mundane get me down, and I often forget my number one purpose. And that purpose is to love. To love my kids. To love their dad. To love their Creator. And to love all the people that Creator has created. Yes, I want my kids to have variety in their diet. I want them to taste a food before they make a judgment about it. But, it’s not all about developing their taste buds. Most importantly, I want my kids to develop a genuine love for all people. That they would grow up, not being afraid of what’s different. That they would walk alongside their darker and lighter friends without hesitation. That judgment wouldn’t come first, but instead friendship. That they would truly see all people. That they would greet the outcast, love the broken, and offer help to the wounded. No matter what, I pray that they would show compassion, treat others the way they would want to be treated, stand firm in their faith, and stay true to themselves.
As my daughter continues to gobble the seaweed, I can’t help but wonder if she’ll gobble it at all costs. Even if she’s laughed at, pointed to, or made fun of. My prayer is that she’ll always look her mockers in the eye, smile her cheesy, toothy smile, offer them a sheet of seaweed, and then reach in for more.
About Brooke: As a young widow and a single mom, Brooke learned to lean on Christ in a whole new way. Remarried to a wonderful man, she’s now a stay-at-home/homeschool mom to their four kiddos. When time can be carved out and the cuddle cups are full, she likes to sip coffee on the porch and write out her thoughts. It’s in these quiet moments that her own cup is filled and her perspective shifts heavenward.
