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Saturday, May 7, 2011

Not Picture perfect... and that's ok.

A steaming cup of java in one hand and my faithful Mac before me, I click through the pictures on Facebook.  Notifications of new albums posted on the sites of my dear friends beckon me to click and browse.  I take in familiar faces, smiling, happy marriages, and happy and whole families.  Some could be the poster image for “Christian families”.  I continue clicking through the beautiful images. I see them going on mission trips together, mom and dad at the center and the children following their example of godliness.  Joy in their faces reflecting the joy in their homes.  My heart is warmed and I hold a sense of deep rejoicing when I think of what some of them have had to battle through, but stuck it out, together.

Forcing myself to take a break from the computer I plod downstairs to conquer the dust.  The cloth uncovers faces from a day in our lives that seem a lifetime ago.  Tiny innocent faces of sweet children, happy, actively a part of a whole family, much like the ones that I was just admiring.  They knew no brokenness.  No loss.  Their world was still whole in that moment in time… and so was ours- though we as adults knew it was broken.  My heart aches as I stare into their precious naïve eyes.  I ache for them then and what they didn’t know what was about to happen; I ache for them now and how they are forced to walk through the wreckage of the demise of their original families.  Did no one stop to really see them?  No one escapes without mortal wounds in a divorce.  Damage too deep to put words to.  Scars they will have to carry, and only God Himself can bring healing to. 

I always had this vision of what my family would be, whole, and God following.  A happy family who loved God and served Him in every chance that they could, reaching out to others.  A home filled with love, laughter, and hope. 
I shuffle through the circumstances that brought us to today.  We arrived here, in Stepville, a land of broken dreams and high hopes for renewed ones.  We walk through a slow mending of the torn and anticipating the creation and building of something new.  Some residents are willing to embrace the new dream, some still asleep to what is and not wanting to wake up. 

The aftermath of devastation forces you to take a position- either of allowing the pain to change you into something better, or you can sit in it, roll around in it- somewhat like playing in the mud continually looking back to what was.  We each had that choice of how to respond.

Looking back never moves you forward.    

I recently heard a wonderful illustration from the former king of Greece.  He had defected during a major conflict.  When the reporter asked him how it was that he could face people and not be embarrassed or completely humiliated, his response was something like this… “My mother once told me… if you stub your toe on a bedpost, it really smarts.  Why would you keep going back to the same bedpost and continue to hit the same toe on the same post?  It only causes additional and continual pain!”  Oh the times I have gone around and around playing in the mud of the wounds and poor decisions made in my life!  What a waste of energy, time, and talents! 

Stepville isn’t what any of us originally envisioned, or desired, but here we are.  God has promised to redeem and restore… He promises for those who mourn, He will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair.  In their righteousness they will be like great oaks that the LORD has planted for His Own Glory. (Isaiah 61:3)

God, the one who specializes in renewing the worn out, the hopeless, is continually giving us the hope of restoring that hope for our family.  A family filled with people who love God and want to seek Him first.  A family that serves out of gratitude for what God has done for them…and it begins with us as parents leading the way. 

Our family photo is different than most.  Peppered with the reality that there were once family units that don’t exist anymore.  Yet a hope lives on that in this new entity we can love, learn, and serve each other… and together be a light in this dark world for our God, who brought us together.  Not perfect, not arrived, but honest, real, and striving to be more like Christ...and who knows...maybe someday we will get the white picket fence too.  Until then, we thank God for the small victories, and rest in the knowledge that He holds it all within His mighty hands.





1 comment:

  1. Becky - I especially like your emphasis on ultimate restoration. That's what God has in store for all of us, a "do over". Revelation says, "I am making all things new." It doesn't say "new things". We get to experience restoration at its finest straight from the hand of the Creator.

    Until then, we keep following His lead ...

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