Ben said it best. Families are dysfunctional. We are imperfect people created by a perfect God. Sins and failures are inevitable. We were created to be broken. There is no such thing as a perfect family, yet somehow the Lord has stitched several broken people together in order to create a loving community that loves me in a way that I still can't comprehend. I have failed them. Countless times. I am a hot mess. I'm a high-emotion individual who can't keep her head on straight, has a tendency to laugh too loudly, tell stories more than once, talk in circles, and occasionally talk way too much. I'm bad with directions. I don't clean up after myself. I would rather sleep than listen to someone talk about their problems, but when it's time for me to externally process, you had better be ready to listen. I don't forgive very easily. I question God. Constantly. I think I'm the best. I tend to aim to please man rather than God about 90% of the time. I fall victim to sin on a daily basis, but I always have a Father who allows me to run back into His arms every single time, much like the son who strayed far from his father after demanding his inheritance. Upon his return to his father, the son spoke to his father:
"Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son." But the father said to his servants, "Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found." So they began to celebrate. Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. "Your brother has come," he replied, "and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound." The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, "Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!"
"My son," the father said, "you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found."
Luke 15:21-31
I have a family who loves me unconditionally. I have a Father who created me to be the broken person that I am, so that I could run back to Him over and over again. Last week, there was a debate on campus between a Christian theologian and the president of the Austin Atheist Society. It was in the midst of their debate that I realized something: I am not called to have all of the answers. All that the Lord calls me to do is to have faith the size of a mustard seed, and mountains can be moved. In no way do I believe that this is a cop-out for me to live in ignorance, rather it encourages me to learn all that I can in order to glorify Jesus to the best of my abilities, but even more than that, it challenges me to break down these walls of the bubble that I've placed myself in.
My family is not limited. My love for others is not confined to a dinner group, or a campus ministry, or even to my classes. I love because He first loved me, in my mess and in my brokenness. And these are some of the people that I have to thank for that.
My family is not limited. My love for others is not confined to a dinner group, or a campus ministry, or even to my classes. I love because He first loved me, in my mess and in my brokenness. And these are some of the people that I have to thank for that.