There is nothing quite so spectacular as feeling loved. It provides me with a sense of security, of feeling like I belong, that I matter to those around me and to the God who created me. I am fortunate to have a family, both related to me by blood and by the Lord above, that loves me and that I love - dysfunctional as we sometimes are, we definitely love each other deeply. My greatest joys and episodic memories are with them, right next to me, front and center.
I have one brother, Tim, and one sister, Tiff. We all trekked to Europe for the first time together 14 years ago. Tiff left to meet our brother-in-law, Matt, who was studying in Amsterdam at the time, and Tim and I left the following day for La Belle France. Made our poor mother a wreck as we all left the country at once. (Her incident on the phone with a French hotel desk clerk to be recounted later.) The four of us met up in the middle of France and had a glorious time. I can hardly wait to do this again so that we can include my sister-in-law Joanne, and possibly the little ones who can hardly wait to go on wild adventures with us.
Then, there are the memories of seeing Joseph for Tim's 21st birthday, those dinners he, my roommates, and I had while we were in college, taking him flying over Chicago (back when we could still do this) for his 25th birthday. Tiff being 10 when I left for college and coming to visit one weekend, taking her bowling, to Willie's for ice cream drinks, and the one I'll never forget - to Pickles, which had the best cheeses sticks in town. On the menu they were listed as beer-batter cheese sticks. Tiff looked at me quite seriously and asked, "Do you think it's okay if I have some?" I assured her it would be okay. :-) Ah, the innocence.
Also included are childhood memories of snowmobiling and warming by the fire afterward. Remember those melted shoe soles, Mom? Yes, my mother always wears her shoes in the house, something I have inherited from her. With her feet propped up on the hearth, she left them there a bit too long and the rubber soles of her then favorite loafers became gooey. So much for that.
And oh yes, the gargantuan debacle, the horrifying-at-the-time trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota, a place Mom had always wanted to go. It was the summer after my senior year in high school, and my brother and I had no desire to go. Even now, memories of that trip make me laugh out loud. We hated it at the time. It was one of those trips where my brother and I would have our headphones on (attached to Sony Walkmans back then), not be listening to music but rather pretending, so that we wouldn't have to answer Dad when he told us to look at something ridiculous...oh, yes, I am suddenly remembering the Great Corn Palace. Yes, there actually is something called the Great Corn Palace, entirely made out of corn. If I remember correctly, it's in Nebraska. Not sure. Definitely not googling that. Wow, had totally blocked out that memory. Whew.
Anyway, we had noticed numerous Harley riders on the interstate. This brought back a not-so-fond memory from my mother's childhood, so when passing a rather large group of bikes going 70 miles an hour, my mother nonchalantly reached over and locked the car doors. As we passed them, my quite ornery father rolled down her window. A straight arm came across his chest with a great thud. We three kids were laughing hysterically. While Mom was chastising Dad, I couldn't help myself and quoted a line from one of our favorite movies, Johnny Dangerously. (There was a gangster in the movie who tried to swear but didn't): "You fargin, sneaky bastage. I'm going to cut your boils off and put 'em in a sling." Again, we all laughed hysterically. After Dad finished laughing, he said, "Tam, you're not helping." It was fun and made Mom laugh, too - mission accomplished. :-)
By the time we actually had driven all the way across the barren wasteland (or so I thought at the time) of Nebraska and South Dakota, Tim and I did something straight out of a movie: We put our arms on each other's shoulders, looked at Mount Rushmore, and said to each other something like, "Okay, that's enough of that." Later that night...or perhaps another...I don't know, they all sort of run together at this point...we got lost in Custer State Park and almost ran out of gas. Thought Mom would kill Dad...Oh, our poor Dad. He has taken much flack over the years for this trip. Still, something in me hopes we could do it again for the laughs alone. The morning after that fateful night, gas tank now full, we sat in a restaurant, eating a veritable smorgasbord of pancakes, waffles, eggs, and the like, when my dad looked at a mammoth strawberry. In my brother's quiet and understated way, he looked at Dad seriously and said, "Don't worry; it'll fit." We all about doubled over with laughter. It truly was hilarious and finally broke the ice that remained from the night before.
Why we did it, I have no idea. But we actually went back to Custer State Park after breakfast. We had seen more buffalo than you can imagine. Mom said something about each of us being able to have a hundred pictures of buffalo. To which I replied, "Yes, and we won't even need reprints." Again, much laughter. My dad is not much one for asking directions. Now, in his defense, he is a great map guy, something I love that I inherited from him. Anyway, this particular not asking for directions was what led to the near-miss in running out of gas. And this day, it also led to going off the beaten path and driving next to boulders that were 3-4 times the size of the car. Since this time, we have become Jeep people. Jeeps could handle this terrain. An Oldsmobile 98 couldn't. My mom, who was never one to put her foot down with Dad, suddenly became adamant in two ways. The first was to tell Dad to stop the car immediately and turn around. The second was to respond to this comment of Dad's. "We're going to Yellowstone." Now, most of the time, this wouldn't be a bad thing. In fact, most of the time, this would be a great thing. Here was my mother's comment: "No, Donnie, it's on fire." Need I say more?
Oh, I love my family. We have come a long way from those days. I love the newer additions, who aren't so new. Matt and Joanne became official members nearly 12 years ago, and since that time there are 5 little people, who bring more joy than I could recount in numerous dissertations. I love that the little ones love Jesus and sing about Him all the time. I love that they love to travel and have great adventures, even if they are only in the imagination. Take this one for instance:
This past Christmas was perhaps the best Christmas we have ever had. (And believe me, we have always had a good time being together.) My nieces Kate and Gabriella are 5 years old. Kate belongs to Tiff and Matt, while Gabriella belongs to Tim and Joanne. Kate had decided she was going to wait up for Santa. Christmas morning, Kate, Gabriella and I were in the kitchen. I overheard Gabriella ask Kate if she had seen Santa. Kate said no and returned to the freshly opened gifts in the living room (in the house where we grew up, which had, at that time, just become Tiff and Matt's house). I turned around, smiling, to glance into Gabriella's eyes. She raised her eyebrows, and gave me a sober look, one I had seen many times on her father's face, and this is what she said: "I saw him." I nearly laughed out loud. I asked where she had seen him, to which she replied: "Out the window and I came down[stairs] in my socks." I could hardly wait to tell everybody. Her mother laughed and asked, "When does imagination become lying?" Tiff said that she probably dreamed it. And if her imagination is anything like her father's was, truly wild and free, who knows what stories she will tell. Well, whether it was dreaming or envisioning, it doesn't matter. It is art and joy in the making.
I could tell you tons of stories about them...and probably will, and this is just my immediate family. There is extended family and spiritual family, too. So whether your family, the people who truly mean the most to you, is by blood or made in a place even deeper and richer than that, in the spiritual realm, may you find joy in living out loud with those God has placed around you. And may you find strength that comes from that joy in knowing you are loved.
Until next time...enjoy!
John 17:21 (ESV)
"That they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they may also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me."
