Our wedding day was like experiencing a few hours in heaven, when all God’s children will celebrate together—worshipping God in perfect unity despite differences in culture, social class, nationality, or skin color. I could feel God’s smile as my dark African relatives in their colorful Yoruba attire intermingled with Paul’s very light, very European family in their traditional dresses and suit. We celebrated together—dancing, praying, laughing, eating, and weeping as one. And that day they all surrounded us and prayed us into our new life together.

Tonight as I reflect on these things, Paul slips his arm around me and I lean against his strong shoulder, reveling in the beauty—the exquisite picture of unity that our wedding day embodied.

The padding of little feet interrupts my thoughts. "Daddy!" squeals Maya. She runs to where Paul sits, throws her little arms around his legs, and smiles up at him, adoring brown eyes full of the wonder of her daddy’s love. He picks her up and she snuggles into his chest, her curly, mussed-up brown hair tickling his fair cheek.

Our toddler cries. I rush to his room and gather him into my arms, marveling at how even with brown eyes and dark hair, my son looks just like his daddy. Cradling Cole, I rejoin Paul and Maya. We cuddle together on the couch as Maya recounts sleepy time dreams and Cole makes sure to glean his share of attention.

As we sit together, I know I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. Our children’s complexion is the perfect blend of Paul and me. The four of us enjoy our oneness. We delight in all the tiny differences that combine to create such a rich picture of our Creator. We are a family. Made in His image. Brought together by love and prayer.

Abi, a birth instructor, lives in Colorado with her husband, Paul, and children, Maya and Cole. Visit her blog at www.Justabitee.blogspot.com