Unjumbled

I can't tell you how pleasant it is for me to read something I've written and reach the end of it feeling satisfied.

It takes a lot of tweaking sometimes, and often a post you read yesterday, if you went back and read it today you'd find that a few things about it had changed. I tweak even after you've read it. I want it to be right and I usually keep on tweaking until I can read it all the way through without something bothering me.
I wouldn't call myself a writer at all, but this part of me has become important and almost vital. This blog has been an outlet for the best and worst of me. I'm glad I started this.

Through this, I've seen specific ways this is a gift and responsibility from God. I've got a few drafts of posts that never made it to finish, and some horrible topics that never made it to light either. And sometimes, when I didn't have anything good to say, God made sure I wasn't able to say it at all. You would think a person that likes to write could write anything, anytime, anywhere... but so often my brain has sat murking around with a wordless tumble of thoughts that couldn't exactly be translated into writing.

That's what happened yesterday.

I spent the weekend thinking so much that by the time Monday came, it was too jumbled to be coherent. This is going to be my best attempt to unjumble things and write once again.

I realized this weekend how much we take family for granted. We have expectations of family that changes our appreciation of the good things they do for us. And those of us with a lot of family don't appreciate each member of the family as much as we should.
And while I am the last person, the very last person, that should dare to give advice on family relationships here's what I want to tell you.



Love your family. Wholly and completely. Don't love them quietly or expect them to understand your love. Explain it in the same clear and uncertain terms that God, with deliberate intent, explained His. Remember that you have never been guaranteed tomorrow. Some of the most painful regrets concern words not said.

Say you're sorry. Say it even if you're not sure you've offended. Say it every time, and often. Give thought to your words before you say them. It bears repeating again, give thought to your words before you say them. Love your family.

Don't be offended. I don't care what they said. I don't care if it sounded like they were talking about you. I don't care if they even used your name when whatever was said was said. Unless they're saying you robbed the local 7-11, let it go and don't be offended.

That said, your fear of rejection or worse, indifference will tempt you to love your family quietly. Your fears will convince you, with surprising vehemence, that your family knows the depth of your love. Fear lies.

Your pride will convince you, that love means never having to say you're sorry. It will inform you that you were entitled to say whatever you said, or do whatever you did. It will tell you to never apologize for the truth. Pride will rob you of your friends and family.

Your emotions will convince you that no one loves you. It will remind you of every hurtful thing past and present. Your emotions will hear things that weren't said, and interpret tones that weren't intended. It will tell you things unsaid, or undone are out of spite or vengeance. Your emotions will kill no one else but you. Nothing destroys the body quite like a running commentary of hurt and bitterness.

There will be moments when it's difficult or next to impossible to do any of those things. And that is when you go to your Counselor. You head to the One that loves you. The One that loves you perfectly. The One that loves you in all the ways you fail at loving. You confess your fear, your pride, and your emotions. You pour out the worst of you to a Savior that sees the best in you despite your flaws. You give Him your disappointments and your hurts, your dreams and desires, and the worries you dare not speak to anyone else. And once you've picked yourself back up, you start all over again.

Then, with all that done, be one of those people that treats everyone like family.