Big Eyes, Full Hearts

"His eyes are so big!"

Those are by far the most common five words I've heard in the past year, and for good reason.  Levi has a pair of eyes that you could get lost in, and the trouble is, he has already mastered how to use them.  He'll give you the side-eye when he's suspicious of you or the puppy eyes when he wants to be picked up.  And trust me when I say you don't ever want to see those bad boys well up with tears because you will be at his complete mercy.

But those five words also speak to a larger point.  While I still enjoy people telling me that little man's got my lips, if it's not already obvious, it's going to be blatantly obvious as he gets older that Ophelia and I are not his biological parents, which will only garner more comments and questions about his story.  I suppose the question most people want to directly ask but don't (well, some do) is:  Wouldn't it be easier to adopt a kid who looks like you?

There's no easy answer for that.  When we were praying over this whole adoption thing, there were countless factors to consider.  Domestic or international?  Infant or toddler?  Open or closed?

I've been out of school for almost a decade, but I still get the occasional nightmare where I show up late to a class completely unaware of the final exam.  Is that normal?  But let me tell you about the most unprepared set of questions I ever had to fill out.

The adoption agency gave us a questionnaire for our child preferences, and me being the efficient man that I am, I wanted to run right through it on my own.  You know, filling out the answers that I knew before reviewing the rest with the wife.

I got nowhere fast with that strategy, and all I ended up completing was our names.  But still very efficiently, obviously.

I'll tell y'all what, going through that questionnaire with Ophelia was one of the most bizarre experiences of my life.  It was just strange having those questions be multiple choice.  For a biological child, you don't get preferences as to gender or health or anything.  No matter what, you're going to love that child, and that child is going to belong to you.  Then all of a sudden we're talking about what medical issues we would be "okay" with, and things of that nature?  "Bizarre" is an understatement.

One question we immediately knew the answer for?  Which race we were open to: all of the above.

Label it a calling or cast it off as naivete, but the race issue was never really an issue.  In my mind, the entire adoption process was without a doubt in God's hands, so if He wanted us to have a baby that looked exactly like us, then He would give us a baby that looked exactly like us.

Most of you who know me best are likely aware that I was/am borderline obsessed with black babies.  I'm not sure if it was solely due to the trips to Africa or what, but those Kenyan kids sure did a number on my heart.  At the same time, though, I would be remiss if I completely ignored the current racial climate in this country.  Seemingly every single day there's another hate crime or another police brutality incident or another... the list is endless.

On the night we brought Levi home from the adoption agency, I was on the highest of highs.  My heart was so full.  I remember watching him sleep and going through all those new-parent feels... the "I can't believe I'm a dad" thoughts that finally had a chance to come to the surface after a 24-hour phone call notice.  But then, the shooting of the Dallas police officers happened that evening, on a day that was supposed to be focused on justice for the police killings of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling.  Reality hit real quick.

And now today, on the eve of my first Father's Day weekend as a dad, the officer who shot and killed Philando Castile has been acquitted of all counts a month and a half after there were no federal charges against officers in Alton Sterling's case.  Unfortunately, nobody is surprised, but people are definitely getting understandably angrier.

I hate to think about how my parenting might change depending on how dark my son's skin color ends up being.  I don't want him to grow up fearing or hating the police, and I shudder at the thought of something as simple as a traffic stop ending up like any of these worst case scenarios.  There's too much hate to the point that it gets overwhelming at times, and race is often a driving force behind it.

So today and every day I pray for my boy's big eyes.  I pray that they be able to take in everything around him -- the good, the bad, and the ugly -- and still shimmer with excitement and determination to make this world a better place.