My poor husband has to listen to a lot. His poor ears. Part of me thinks that he's excited for the day that he needs hearing aids so he can just turn me off. He's a real trooper. And I am a habitual over-communicator. It's how I process and how I deal. I can't work through stuff inside of my head space sometimes. It's just not big enough in there. But during the times when Jake isn't here, or when he's already listened to A LOT, I write. If there was such as a thing as "eye aids", some of you may choose to turn me off. Jake is at work this morning. The kids are fed and up to no good. And I need to process.
We talk to our kids a lot about choices. About how circumstances in their lives are a result of choices they've made. We can't choose things like the family we've been given or our eye color. We can't choose our personalities and we can't choose the details that God intricately designed us with. But God, when He so perfectly created us, designed us with free will. We choose everything from the way we react to someone to what we eat or don't eat all the way down to where we will spend eternity. God has provided all of the benefits of good choices for us. But we have to choose to take what is being held out to us. Our life choices are no different than that. We say so many times a week in this house "you can't control what they do, you can only control the way you react to it. Don't let their sin, make you sin." And most days, that's a tough pill for kids to swallow. For us adults, it's like the impossible pill to swallow. We react every day. Keeping ourselves in check with our reactions and actions is a full time job. Self control is a full time job. Choices are hard. And sometimes in life, we WILL make the wrong choice. What's beautiful is that God is full of grace and mercy. He will not change. If we stray from His will, and if we return, He has not changed. He's the same yesterday, today and forever. He is the only true "home". Because "home" here on earth changes. And family changes. And sometimes, that's a direct result of our choices, or other people's choices. But for each choice, there is always a result. Always.
I was 5 when my mom and stepdad started dating, 8 when they got married, and 19 when they got divorced. He's now referred to as my "dad" because "step" is just silly. He's my dad. He was there. And so was his family. They took us all in just like he did. Without hesitation. And I lived an awesome awesome childhood because of this addition of a new family (and it's a big one and I LOVED that). Holidays were always fully full. One of my absolute favorite Thanksgiving memories is trekking into NYC from my grandparents house in NJ to watch the Macy's parade. It was freezing. Legitimately freezing. And you had to get there before dawn to get a good spot. But we had our thermos and our thermals and each other. Cousins and aunts and uncles....all huddled up to see a parade and make memories that I will never forget. Most gatherings, there were so many people we couldn't move around in the house. I miss that. So much. The chaos. The drama. The warmth. As each year passed, more kids got added. Kids got older and people moved and the location of the holiday celebrations moved as well. And it didn't change. When my grandparents retired to SC, my grandma would invite random people over for holiday meals.....1 because she hated the idea of anyone being alone and 2 because the house felt empty with less than 20 people. The Scrabble board and the wine came out. The men watched whatever sport was on during that season. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, random get togethers......they were always the same. They supported us as if the same blood ran through our veins. Sporting events and proms and graduation and sleepovers and cooking lessons and crossword puzzles and school projects. The whole deal! And then change started happening. I moved away to school and my parents chose divorce. I don't condemn them for it. It was THEIR choice. And at 19, I was old enough to be responsible and make my own choice. I chose poorly.
It was a less than amicable divorce. And I took sides. And these people that had given me an amazing childhood full of love and experience and family got hurt. My dad and I were estranged for over 2 years. A lot happens in two years. He got remarried. I gave birth to a son. And bonds were broken. We made amends the summer that I found out I was pregnant with Zella. I remember the night after we saw each other for the first time after so long and I got in the car and just cried. Yes, I was pregnant, but I was relieved and hurt. Hurt that I let myself miss 2 years of this closeness. That Christmas, the rest of the family followed. We all met after probably 4 years for dinner and there were tears and it was awesome. The kids that had been littles were almost women. And this family took us in, again. Except for my grandparents. They deserved more. They deserved an apology. Before I was able to do that, my grandma passed away unexpectedly. I walked into the funeral feeling like I shouldn't be there. Because she went to her grave never knowing how truly sorry I was, and how much I loved her and appreciated her. It got better. And family gatherings happened more often and lines of communication opened and while things will never be the same, they were still good. We've separated ourselves a lot in the last year or so. It's kind of what happens sometimes in adoption and it's necessary. But even in being necessary, it's still painful and lonely. We have missed family gatherings and I've missed the closeness and even though they've stayed the same, it feels different.
This morning, after a long and courageous battle with cancer, my grandpa passed away. He's with grandma now. He's not in any more pain. He and I had made our peace. But I never said it. I never said sorry. I never said thank you. That was my choice. One that I will have to deal with.
If I could explain this to my kids today in a way that wouldn't terrify them, I would say, "In a moment, our choices may seem right. It might feel like we are doing what's best. If you're basing your choice on how you feel, it's probably wrong. Feelings can be prideful. They can be misleading. They can be a result of outside sources. Think about it. Pray about it. Then choose."
We are so imperfect. We do make bad choices. We hurt people. We create distance where distance doesn't belong. We carry our pride with us in these giant bags and force that baggage on the people close to us. WE are the ones that change. And then we accuse everyone else of changing.
Last night our family devotional was about the hurt that people feel at Christmas. That there isn't always joy for everyone this time of year. The expectation of the Christmas season is peace and joy and cheer and happiness. And if we try to find those things in the "things" of the season, the expectation is very often shattered. And we find ourselves frustrated and even more upset that a "time of year" couldn't even make us happy. But if we focus on the true meaning of Christmas, that we can have peace all year. Emmanuel. God with us. We were given a gift that would afford us the opportunity to make a choice that would give us a forever "home" and a forever "family" and an eternal Father. One that won't change. One that won't remind us of our regret. One that will allow us to enter into His kingdom forever and ever. It's our choice.
So today, while I mourn at home for a great man and for my dad who is mourning with his family, I find great hope in this sign on my wall. Emmanuel. He is with us. No regret or pain can change this gift. Nothing can take it away or estrange it. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. No matter how close or how far we choose to be.
This season, whatever this season may mean for you, I hope you find the same hope in this gift. Whatever your hurt, whatever your regret or distance from God, this gift is for you.
"But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today, in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah. The Lord.'" Luke 2:10-11
