The Story Of Us

A few years ago, in an especially dark season of my life, I decided to begin organizing several bankers' boxes full of family photos.

In the past, starting down that path had always been a risky and emotionally challenging exercise, in part because of the complexities that have dotted the landscape of our family's life over the last three decades, and I was certain, given the state of my heart, that my latest venture would be no exception. But, as I opened and began unpacking the first box something shifted. The pictures obviously hadn’t changed, but my perception of what they depict did - radically. It's not that I shed any fewer tears or that there weren’t just as many moments tinged with regret over missed opportunities for relationship building, emotional intimacy, a deeper sense of empathy, and growth. There were plenty of both as I flipped through the 1,000 or so images I ultimately organized - a small fraction of the whole. I suppose we all have them. It's an inescapable part of being human and imperfect, of lacking wisdom and, dare I say, spiritual maturity.

This time around, however, I was struck (overwhelmed really) by the bigger truth the photos reveal: That, taken as a whole, they tell a very different, much more remarkable, uniquely beautiful and joyful "story" of our lives than the one I realized I unknowingly had grown accustomed to telling myself, particularly in that season. It's a story of courage, of unconditional and, at times, sacrificial love, of compassion, of the power of an unyielding faith in God and each other, of the criticality of a mother's selfless and tireless devotion to her children, of grace in action and commitment, and of repeatedly overcoming - sometimes against seemingly insurmountable odds; and that’s still what I see. I’m proud of and eternally grateful for us. Maybe there are "pictures" in your own life that are worth a second look.