the family story...

This morning I went to church for the first time in two years... or, at least I think it’s been two years, I can’t exactly remember. Anyway, I’m always apprehensive about opening myself up like this -praying and singing in public- takes a confidence in myself and moreover a confidence in my faith. And so, with most things that force us outside our comfort zone, I was rewarded. I left with new thoughts, a new point of view, a weight lifted and a heart lightened.

Today- a young woman stepped outside of her comfort zone and delivered her testimony to a congregation of strangers. A testimony involving a father sexually abusing a seven-year-old girl. A testimony involving a mother’s disregard for a daughter’s mental and physical health by withholding much needed love, affection and understanding. A testimony involving a broken child who blamed herself. A testimony where a fathers sickness and lust forced actions that sent him to prison, breaking apart a family and taking from his children a vital piece of childhood. This young woman rose above all of the pain in her life and with God's love was able to forgive her fathers actions, her mothers inaction, and eventually herself. This choice released the guilt that masqueraded as clarity, seemingly holding her world together. This young woman may not have been given the choice of who her family is, but she was given the choice to rise above hate, pain, abuse, remorse, unfairness, and embrace the people in her life with a Christ-like love.

A love without agenda or motives.

She embraced forgiveness and in doing so, she embraced love.

We all have a family. We all have a story. It may or may not involve abuse, or neglect, or pressure to succeed or certain shoes to fill…. Whatever the plot, our stories are all different. Our families are all different. The common ground is that we are also given the choice to look past the flaws and love without needing that identical love returned.

As the holidays approach, and families make plans to gather together, whether out of obligation or expectation or out of love and desire for unity, and gifts will be exchanged, sometimes heartfelt, sometimes void of meaning or worth, I pray that I can let go of the pain I hold when it comes to my own family. My own story is different than that young woman’s – However, it is not, and never will be perfect…

I pray that I am able to give love as my gift to my family. My love. My time. My forgiveness. I pray that I choose to embrace the characters God has penned into my story, because we haven’t yet reached the end and there are many more pages and many more chapters left to write.

"Family faces are magic mirrors. Looking at people who belong to us, we see the past, present, and future."

-Gail Lumet Buckley