My family and I used to not get along. I think that most kids go through a rebellious stage somewhere around junior high to early high school, and I did too. I was kind of a lame rebel. I didn't really do anything. But I couldn't stand my parents, and my brothers had that tight bond that comes from loving farmwork or something, and I just didn't share that. It took a few key events around my junior year of high school for things to start clicking, and I finally got along with my family. I mean, I was still kind of the odd one out, but we got along. Then, I got to college, and man, everything changed. God hit me with a full blast of love, I learned what it meant to follow Him, and my life turned upside down. I changed. I changed the way that I viewed Jesus and the Church. I changed the way that I viewed certain aspects of politics or social justice. I changed the way that I loved people (read: I actually learned how to love people). That change took a while to work itself out, and it's still working itself out. But because I only saw my family on extended school breaks, to them, it seemed more sudden. And that's kind of where we are now. I am a much different person, and there's tension as they try to figure out what to do with me. There's tension in that, although we all love and follow Jesus, we do that in much different ways. There's tension in the ways that we view social and political decisions that being made. There's tension in how we treat people or what we consider "normal".
And that tension was there from the get-go of break. The first few days, it was just one argument after another. Mom got upset because I got another ear piercing, and because I pressed on why that upset her, a huge long argument/discussion ensued. I get back home, and my brother says that I'm a bad person because we didn't end up going to church in St. Louis as planned. I discuss my summer plans, and get told to "lay off the church stuff". Things in the news about different races and stuff illicit slurs from my brothers, and that really hurt. And then there's the whole aspect of living with a family of Catholics during Lent. After the first few days, I was done. I felt like I couldn't say anything without being attacked, like they would ask questions about my opinions but not even entertain my answer, like I was being ganged up on. I loved my family SO much, but every time that I tried to speak and act in love, it was thrown in my face. And I still most of a week left. I ended up calling a friend way late at night, completely unloading and being encouraged. "You're strong, you can do this," I was told. And I knew I could. But I had quite a bit of bitterness storing up.
And that's when I found this verse.
"Don't have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels. And the Lord's servant must not quarrel; instead, he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful." 2 Timothy 2: 23-24Mmm. Touche, God. It's not like I was trying to start the arguments that my family and I had been having, but it had gotten to the point that I was almost expecting them, and so was quick to turn defensive. I was adding to those foolish and stupid arguments, and I was definitely harboring resent. I felt pretty convicted right about then, and so since nobody was in the house, I did what I always seem to do when God tries to teach me something hard - I argued with Him. He always wins, but I do it anyways. After I got it all out and basically felt like a giant emotional sponge that was just wrung dry, I just sat there and listened. It's funny, I can just picture God looking at me during my frustration fit, just waiting for me to be quiet so that He could talk, just like a dad or a good friend would. And He did. And what I felt in my soul was basically this: "I know you're frustrated. You love them, and you feel like they're suffocating you, and you want them to love and live like you do. I love how you love! But I love them too, and I have them on different paths than you. This tension is not My plan for this family. Regardless of whose fault it is, dear, you have to forget it and refuse to be part of it. It takes two people to argue. I want to strengthen you and use you, but you have to stop swinging. They love you. You love them. I love all of you. Just think on that."
It was hard. Not so much making the shift, but having to face all of the double standards I had set... ouch.
Once I made that shift in my heart and my attitude, though, I saw how much in the wrong I was. I said that I was trying to speak to them in love, but I wasn't. I was arguing. And while yes, you should stick up for yourself, and while yes, I want them to know my opinion (especially when they ask), when doing that reaches the point that it becomes less of a discussion and more of a fight, then I'm not doing my job. I'm not showing what Christ-like love is. I'm showing how stubborn I am.
I think that that was the part that threw me for a loop the most. It seems like actually living out love pops up in my journal at least once a week. Like, in my head and in my heart, that's one of the things I want most. I want to see people love eachother, actually love eachother, regardless of any differences and without stereotypes or selfishness... I think it would be the most beautiful thing ever. But then, I turn around and harbor resentment towards my parents because of how we can't seem to see eye to eye. Like that even matters! Don't we both love Jesus? Aren't we both children of God? Ugh! And that's the point.
God showed me how to show love to my parents, despite differences. If I had to do it on my own, I would be starting classes today a completely empty woman. I would be so bitter, so frustrated, so tired of it all. But I didn't do it on my own. I did it by continually leaning on God for strength, by pouring out love that I didn't have on my own, that came from Him. I did it by actually making the effort to see things from their point of view. I did it by looking at them, and seeing Jesus living in them.
Isn't that what love is about anyways?
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