My Family has been on my mind a lot lately. When I was growing up—since I was an only child—My Family meant me, my Mom, and my Dad. We have plenty of extended family that we dearly love, of course, but we were the only ones on the East coast. The rest of the family was spread out in the Midwest, California, and Canada. Holidays were usually quiet, peaceful events.
The past few years, My Family has come to mean me, my parents, and my two sweet boys. Here’s a look at them—I’ve shared this pic with you before, but it’s just too good to not share it again! Aren’t they the cutest?
Lately, I’ve been revisiting the notion of what My Family really looks like. You see, my Mom’s illness recently reared its ugly head again and it’s serious enough for us to wonder what our future might look like without her in it. (Wow, it’s hard to type those words.) She really is the glue that holds us together. She’s the toughest lady I know.
In the midst of all this, God took the opportunity to show me what My Family really looks like.
It looks like friends, who are more like sisters, willing to help me navigate the scary world of my parent’s tax return, so I could ease that concern for my father.
It looks like business partners, who are more than friends, willing to help pick up the slack at Buckhead Tea so I can take care of my parents.
It looks like doctors calling in the evenings and on weekends to check, not just on Mom, but also on Dad, the boys, and I.
It looks like friends of my parents coming over to their house to bring some favorite snacks, and to sing praises and pray with my parents in order to comfort them.
It looks like family and friends from all over the country checking in on us and sending offers of help with food, prayers, and childcare for my boys so I can concentrate on caring for my parents.
It looks like my boys’ baseball coaches taking them camping for the weekend—to give me a chance to rest and to take those precious boys away from all the sadness for a little while.
It looks like my sweet former mother-in-law calling me every few days to see how my Mom is doing and to offer to come stay with us to care for our boys so I don’t have to worry about them.
Sadly, it took an awful situation like this for me to be reminded that I am not alone in this world and that family doesn’t just have to include people that you are related to by blood. Thankfully, families come in all different shapes and sizes and flavors. And boy, oh boy, am I grateful for mine.
As for Mom, it looks like she’s on the mend again and that we’ve been gifted with yet another miracle in terms of her health. She is slowly but surely regaining her strength, and we hope to see her sassy stubbornness again real soon. But, whatever the outcome, we are so very grateful to know that she is in God’s very good, very capable, very loving hands. And that no matter what, He is Good. All. The. Time.
This picture reminds me of that. I took it while we were on that cruise over Thanksgiving. I love it because it reminds me that when things look bleak and scary and ominous in our very limited sight, God is still sovereign over it all. And that His goodness remains in spite of it all.