Family time is important. How many times have we heard that? For many this statement merely rises to the level of that nagging feeling that you have when you know the oil in your car should have been changed 300 miles ago. Well, this isn’t our car, this is our family and I’m wondering how you might be doing in this area. The joy in analyzing the current state of affairs in our homes is found when we remember that it is not so much how we begin but how we are finishing.
I grew up in a family wherein we were all going in different directions by the time I was fourteen. Divorce had affected all of us – weekends were alternated between my parents and my adolescence felt like a constant shuffle between two very different worlds. My step-sisters did the same thing when they went to their dad’s house and, looking back, parents and kids alike cultivated a fair amount of relational chaos in what might have otherwise been a reasonably happy home. It was the early 1980’s and all of us were likely pursuing the wrong things to fill up our lives and hearts. My own dad has expressed regrets about his misfires during this time period but I would have to say that, even had he attempted a reversal of our family-trending at that time, I probably would not have been too interested in cultivating any deep family connections. It was a messed-up half decade for us and none really knew how to be or what to do back in those days. I was a hurt and bitter teen and completely self-absorbed. Jaded and skeptical, I took on a cynical view of the noble (and in my mind, completely unwarranted) concept of “the happy family”. I bought into the theology of the great musical prophets, Simon & Garfunkel, and declared myself to be rock and an island that never felt pain and never cried. I was willingly lost in life and not looking for any legitimate direction because I lost hope that there was any desirable destination. I drifted.
Then Jesus Christ had the sovereign audacity to go hunting for me, to find me in my early twenties and to haul off and redeem me. Imagine that!
Everything changed, and I mean everything. New appetites resulted from new vision. Righteousness replaced defilement, wisdom begin to eat away my ignorance, pornography was exchanged for God’s Word…life would never be the same. God allowed my fabricated family of friendly drunks to slowly walk away from me when they sensed Jeff had become a right-wing Christian wingnut. In their place he introduced me to a small church full of genuine Christians who allowed my cold heart to begin to thaw in the warmth of their authentic love and concern. I started to entertain the notion that human beings might actually be worthy of trust and love again.
When Amy and I were married about three years later, God turned things up a notch. I married into a family that made the Waltons and Cleavers look dysfunctional. The Samples clan was the real deal and I was horribly intimidated by the lavish love and easiness they all shared with one another. At family gatherings I hid in a corner for the first two years. I kept waiting for the masks to be taken off and the “real Samples” to merge form the shadows. Little did I know that the real Samples had been in front of me the whole time. I watched, listened, learned and began to attempt to love like they loved. It was very difficult for me to cross this threshold because it had been a long time since I had given myself to the notion of a truly happy family. I’m so glad that I took those first steps by faith because it literally changed my life.
Now we have two children of our own and Amy and I have committed to model family to them. We have dozens of excuses at our fingertips about why we don’t have time to cultivate joy in our home. Time constraints, ministry demands, physical limitations due to injury, schooling pressures…the same excuses you could use if you chose. Yet when we look at the faces of two precious children we both agree that they are entitled by God to have parents who infuse them with all the things that will enable them to perpetuate a legacy of a home that honors God. I want my grandchildren to thank me one day for how I raised their mom and dad. I’m unsure that anything could thrill me more.
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for my salvation. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for my wife, Amy, and the two best children ever born, Alicia and Landon. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for infusing me with the conviction that my children deserve the best from their mother and father. Now, oh Lord, give me the ongoing wisdom and strength to maintain these convictions until the end. I am convinced that my family is worth it.
Excelllent reminder! When my teen daughter began the habit of spilling over with manic tales of her school day, using phrases such as “I was like, and then she was like, and then she said…”. etc., I wearily told a friend “I just don’t have it in me to listen to all that babble”.
My friend looked at me like a Mama catchin’ her kid stealing and said “Yes, you DO.”.
Our Dad reminds me to “keep ’em talkin”.
When are teens get silent – it’s a warning. Daddy’s instruction keeps her safe in truth.