It’s coming—the family event of the year. There will be variations of uncles with corny jokes, cousins that won’t forgive, and, well, let’s just say—interesting personalities.
Pile on exhaustion, expectations, disappointments, and memories (good and bad) of years gone by and, my friend, you have what is known as a potentially hazardous situation.
Potentially being the operative term. It doesn’t have to be that way.
Believe me, I know what I’m talking about here—
I stepped through the gate, marveling at the calm – no splashing in the pool, no jumping on the trampoline, none of the previous excitement.
Across the yard, I saw them sitting under the pool umbrellas munching happily away on bags of chips, Tostitos, and popcorn, salsa, guacamole, and fruit trays.
Less than three hours earlier, after a full-scale brunch, everyone had declared themselves stuffed. Stuffed. The clan commenced to the pool and I left for a farewell open house. Somehow, in my brief absence, they had become famished. That’s when they went and raided the food supply – food I had allotted for the barbecue later.
Our family reunion had started with a bang, and what was taking place should not have surprised me. It was clear from the start that we enjoyed eating.
Willing myself to smile as I walked to the pool, I called out, “You guys want some cheeseburgers to go with that?”
“No,” Aunt Bev’s eyes twinkled, “we just wanted some snacks.” I like Aunt Bev. We all like her. She is hilarious and pretty hard to be mad at, but still. The group exchanged conspiratorial glances.
“Uh-oh, we’re messing up her list,” someone quipped. To be fair, there wasn’t actually a list. Well, all right, there was a menu, and maybe it looked a little bit like a list. But how does one prepare for a family reunion without at least some forethought?
Someone (I don’t know who) piped up, “What we’d really like now are the cookies.”
It’s probably a good thing I can’t remember who said that.
The cookies. Chocolate chip and molasses. Family favorites baked with love in Pennsylvania and then carefully frozen to make the 10-hour trip. They were part of the dessert for the afore-mentioned barbecue.
I needed to change into my poolside clothes. Actually, what I really needed to do was breathe. Thank goodness, for the septuagenarian among us who glanced at me with raised eyebrows, half-grin, and knowing look.
Still managing a smile, I turned and walked to the house.
Immediately, an internal dialogue began.
“Don’t blow it, Melissa. Don’t make this about your schedule.”
“For crying out loud, what is wrong with these people? How can they possibly be hungry?”
“What’s important here, Melissa? What do you want to be remembered?”
“Well, they aren’t getting the cookies. At least, not right now.”
“Breathe, Melissa, breathe.”
It was at that exact moment—I kid you not—that perfectly-God-timed moment – when I walked by the swings and heard 7-year-old Brooklyn declare, “This is the BEST DAY EVER!”
Best. Day. Ever.
The air in my lungs collapsed. That’s what I wanted my grandchildren to remember. Sweet memories of laughter, family, joy, sunshine, and a gramma who loved them more than her plan.
More than her pain.
Because it’s never just about one thing, is it?
You see, on top of all of the unimportant stuff (and, at the moment, that is precisely what it was – unimportant stuff), it was the 10th anniversary of my husband’s death. Suicide. We all still felt that blow. For me that week also contained the anniversaries of my wedding and the day we had moved to Canada. The wrestling of bitter and sweet continued.
If I could, I would eliminate these two weeks each year.
And you’d better believe that all that emotional stuff and lack of sleep played into the inner battle that waged in my heart.
These hard years had taught hard truths. The kind of truths that last forever. That kind of hard. Like, God is always faithful. Always. And His grace is always sufficient. Always.
And I knew that the grace that had brought me through the important stuff was more than capable of getting me through the unimportant.
Because it’s all important to Him.
We were here, and we were together. We were family. And eventually in life (if you are smart) you accept that some things are just not all that important…like perfectly clean houses, messed up meals, cookies, and the list.
So, I changed my clothes, changed my attitude, and grabbed those containers of cookies. We could eat cheeseburgers and salad later. Or maybe not. Maybe we would just eat chips and cookies all day.
The hours passed lazily until, late that night, I found myself tucking an exhausted 5-year-old Jonathan into bed.
Looking at his little face, it struck me—it was worth it all—
the planning, the shopping, the cooking, the cleaning,
the food eaten out of sync,
the empty cans and water bottles strewn across the grass,
the brownies made by the teenagers in my bedroom, the bedroom with the white sheepskin rug on the floor,
the healthy food not eaten,
the waterlogged floors…
And I was so glad that I hadn’t lost it over the cookies.
An old hymn came to mind. The same old hymn that, for years now, had choked my stubborn heart.
“It will be worth it all when we see Jesus. Life’s trials will seem so small when we see Christ.” (Esther Kerr Rusthoi)
Sometimes life brings trials so great that it is hard to imagine a time when they won’t bring pain.
One can struggle with doubt about whether the gold produced in a life is worth the agony of the process.
I blinked as tears came. Yes, I know exhaustion and emotions helped those tears along, but there was more. In the quietness, I was reminded that one day, my heavenly Father will gather all His children for a family reunion, the likes of which I cannot comprehend. In that moment, when I look on my dear Savior’s face, all of my containers of trials, as well as my hidden personal hurts (the ones that have become dangerously precious to me), will disappear faster than those coveted cookies.
Every agony,
every challenge,
every unplanned moment will fade away.
This is hard truth. This is sweet peace.
He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from off all faces; and the rebuke of his people shall be taken away from off all the earth: for the LORD hath spoken it. And it shall be said in that day, Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, and he will save us: this is the LORD; we have waited for him, we will be glad and rejoice in his salvation. Isaiah 25:8-9
Best. Day. Ever.
Wow! I needed this today. Thank you!
Praise the Lord! 🙂 Me, too!
Oh Melissa…Your writing reaches far into deep recesses of my heart…there are so many things that we allow to speak louder than our Saviour’s voice. I believe it is the devil’s tool to steal the joy we can be sharing in the Lord. Thank you for reminding me to listen closer ❤
Leah, I can’t count the times that I regret ignoring the Spirit’s voice. Here’s to getting older and hopefully, getting wiser :). Merry Christmas, friend!
Reading this “blog” has been a blessing…… Merry Christmas, Melissa!!!!
Thank you, June, and Merry Christmas to you, too! 🙂
Another blog well done! Thank you Melissa for sharing your heart and reminding me to not sweat the small stuff.
Always reminding myself, Marie. Love you so much and happy to have a sister to learn these things with side-by-side!
You are my strength when I am weak
You are the treasure that I seek
You are my all and all…
Jesus, Savior, Friend…
You taught us this song years ago at a retreat. It’s helped me a lot over the years.
Dark places made bright knowing my All In All.
And now, you have me singing this! Yes, Julie, dark places made bright knowing He is my All in All. Thank you for the reminder!
I cried almost all the way through this. I felt your pain and grief because it was so real. Don’t stop sharing as it convinces me I am not losing it over some things in my life.
Oh, Mary Ann, I have found that it is always okay to “lose it” with our heavenly Father. He gives us grace to keep going, one step at a time, eyes always on Him. Love you!
A family reunion in Heaven…what a concept! Nothing but happiness and love. Great food. Awesome music. And, best of all, Jesus at the center of it all. Oh, what a time!
Great food, awesome music, and Jesus at the center – wow! Just wow, Pat!
Thank you for your transparency. I laugh with you and weep with you. You reminded me that we often get distressed about the little things instead of looking at God’s big picture. Thank you again for sharing your testimony of God’s grace!
Dave, One thing (among many) that I am looking forward to in heaven is sitting around and laughing and crying with old friends. We all have our stories of God’s grace! Thank you for your encouragement and prayers!
Surely needed this reminder with the gang all coming next week…praying I can stay focused on the important things, and build sweet memories…and looking forward to that sweet reunion in Heaven where there will be no more tears
Amen and amen, Patti! One day…till then, we focus on the important things!
AMEN! It WILL be worth it all!
God bless you!
It sure will be, Lillian. Thank you and God bless you, too!
Your grace-filled transparency touches, blesses, moves my heart. Thank you, dear Melissa.
You hit the nail on the head, Claudia-it’s all grace!
So many thoughts and feelings, so much grace over the years, so thankful for how far God has brought me, thank you for sharing and reminding me
God bless you, Mary. I am right there with you!
Andrea,
Thank you for your honest and “this is me” reply. I am so glad that I am not the only one and that we are never too old to learn! I pray that you do enjoy your beautifully creative, loud, opinionated people! 🙂