I Love My Family...

We just returned from our Annual Progressive Dinner on the Boardwalk.  By “we”, I mean Nate, my two sisters, and my two brother-in-laws.  Several years back Nate and I decided that we would literally eat our way down the boardwalk.  We stopped at whatever food stands we wanted, tried new snacks, bought desserts we had never tried before and called it our “progressive dinner.”  A few years ago, Nate and I decided to invite my sisters and their husbands along for the adventure (knowing they were dying to go), but made sure they understood that whatever we ate…they had to eat too, even if it didn’t sound good.  Tonight was no exception as we ate pizza, fries, water ice, custard, chip-sticks, corn on the cob and more.

I love my family.  I have said it before and I will say it for the rest of my life…I love my family.  We were in Laura’s Fudge Store tonight, each ordering something for “dinner,” when my brother in law, John, bit into his chocolate covered jelly roll (why that would be the thing to choose in a fudge store is beyond me…but that’s what he wanted).  He bites into this thing and says “This is disgusting.  Seriously, this is disgusting.”  Now John doesn’t normally pass much up.  He eats EVERYTHING, so we happened to look at the jelly roll and noticed that the entire thing was moldy inside!  We were like, “John…that’s mold!!!”  Just as we noticed the mold, I happened to look up at John’s shirt and realized he had been pooped on by a seagull.  I was like, “Uh John…you have bird poop on your shirt.”  We all died laughing. We weren’t very helpful.  I probably should clarify that.  I wasn’t helpful.  I was doubled over ready to pee my pants because they whole thing was like it was out of a comedy show.  Later that night, we retold the story in the car (to ourselves of course…we were all there…it was just funny enough to talk about again), laughing again, and blasted David Crowder songs at the top of our lungs, as we drove up and down the streets of Wildwood.  We are so weird.  But I love my family.

This morning we all went to church together.  There is a church that we love to go to when we are on vacation.  The Pastor is super passionate, the worship leaders are super passionate, and you can just feel God’s presence.  Today, the Pastor was fired up.  He was preaching with such a passion and conviction, because he wanted people to understand their need for Christ in their life.  He talked about the reality of evil in our world and how it is only going to get worse, but that the greater reality is that Christ has won the battle.  He was pleading for people to live their lives for Christ.

From the second I got into that service this morning, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude.  I was sitting in a row with my entire family…sister, parents, brother-in-laws, nieces and my husband, singing songs about surrendering our lives to Jesus, listening to a Pastor preach from his heart that he so bad wants people to understand the hope of Jesus and to live for him, and it was overwhelming.  It was overwhelming in a good way.  You see, it’s not just the weirdness and silliness that I love about my family.  I love that they love Jesus.  I love that my parents modeled what it was like to live for Christ from the beginning.  I love that they made choices for my sisters and I from the day we were born that have made eternal differences.  I love that my sisters are making those same choices for their children.  I love that they married Godly men who have chosen to live their lives surrendered to Christ.

As I sat in my seat and looked down the row at the family that I have been raised in, I couldn’t help but think about the fact that in the next couple of weeks Nate and I will also be given the opportunity to make choices for our “new” family that could make eternal kind of differences.  Tears formed in the corners of my
eyes as we sang the songs of surrender this morning and as the Pastor preached with passion about the hope of Jesus.  Tears were there, because I have that same conviction.  Over the past 9 years of youth ministry, I have wanted the teenagers in my youth group to boldly follow Christ wherever he leads…no matter how difficult the journey gets.  I have wanted to see them make Godly choices as to who they will marry and what they will do with their life.  I have wanted to see them live in a way that hope has transformed everything they do.  It’s why I do what I do as a youth pastor.  I believe in it.  I have seen how it has changed my own family.


And now, as we are just days away from bringing home our son, I want that for Biruk.  I want him to understand the hope of Christ in a way that it transforms the course of his life.  It’s been what I have found myself praying for over these past few months before he has even had the chance to come home.  It’s what I hope I can model.  It’s what I am thankful my family has modeled for me.  It’s what will be at the forefront of everything we choose to do as a family.  I am beyond grateful for the hope of Jesus.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Mother's Heart...

Image
It was the night before we were ready to leave for Ethiopia that it dawned on me. We hadn’t given the necklace to Biruk yet. When we had exchanged necklaces with his birth mom ten years prior at the orphanage, we had no idea when we would give it to him. We just knew that we wanted him to be old enough to appreciate it, as it would be the only thing he would have from her. We had no idea if we would ever see her again.  There have been several moments in our journey where I’ve had to pinch myself, because it has felt like I was dreaming. That night as we put our final things in our suitcases, took a deep breath, and came to the realization that we were not only taking our kids to Ethiopia, but that Biruk would in fact meet his birth mom…well, you had to pinch me, because it felt like I was dreaming. It also felt like the perfect moment to share this gift that we had been holding onto for 10 years. So we pulled out the necklace and gave it to Biruk. While words can be few and far
Read more

Stories Matter

Image
Yesterday, my family and I found ourselves at a local elementary school’s culture club, presenting about our trip to Ethiopia. Even as I write those words, it kind of blows my mind how God has continued to use our story in unexpected places. When the kids were old enough to understand, we began to talk about taking them back to their birth country when they turned 10. We figured at 10, they would be old enough to be pretty good travelers, but still approach the adventure with a childlike wonder. What we didn’t plan on, was that the year Biruk turned 10 would come on the heels of me taking a brand new job, our family moving to a new state, and buying our very first house, in an economy that felt as though it was tanking!  I remember talking to my counselor one day and sharing with him that while we had always promised this trip to our kids, it just didn’t seem to make financial sense. After all, last time I checked, Southwest Airlines does not travel to Africa. He said something
Read more

Thin Spaces...The Sights and Sounds of Ethiopia

Image
When I was in Seminary, I went on my first Mission Trip to a third world country. I was just two years into my marriage, a young 23 years of age, and I had no idea how the experience would change me. My Dad happened to be taking a team from his church to the Dominican Republic and I needed a cross cultural experience for a class I was taking, so it seemed like a perfect match. That trip not only changed my life, but created this passion to serve in third world countries and was the launching pad for all the mission trips I would get to lead at the churches I was a youth pastor at. By the time I was I reached 40, I had taken 2 more trips to the Dominican Republic, a trip to Costa Rica, a trip to Guatemala, a trip to Africa, and of course 25+ trips to Honduras.  There is something about being in a third world country that feels like home to me. I know that sounds strange, but I have often found myself saying, “I’m my best self here.” They are places that breathe fresh life into me,
Read more