Thanksgiving is a favorite holiday for many Americans. They love the food, they love being with family for hours with nothing on the agenda other than carving fowl, enjoying each other's company, watching football, remembering past times, and sleeping. But for me, Thanksgiving has taken on a whole new emotion.
There isn't a day—Thanksgiving or not—where I don't look at my boys and marvel at how we have been brought together. We were so clearly meant to have these boys in our lives; we were so clearly meant to learn from them. And for the blessing of having them in our life, I am ever grateful and humbly thankful. That gratitude is so clear, especially on Thanksgiving.
But I can't just sit in this joy, in this gratitude, truth be told. Because while I reflect on what gifts our lives have been given, I am ever aware of the circumstances that have made these gifts possible, and so my gratitude is always a bit bittersweet. Think of a mother who has given birth, and the challenges she must have faced in her life to give her son up. I’ve had several people tell me, “Your sons are lucky to have you.” I pause and tell them, “It wasn't luck that brought us together.” I know that without a doubt. I know that our sons coming into our lives, our coming into their lives is part of God’s plan. He saved these boys just for us and we give thanks!
On November 24th, my family will bow its head around the table and give thanks. And, yet, my heart and mind will not be in America. My heart and mind will be in China; thinking of the women who gave us our sons.
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