family

You don't get to choose your family. You do get to choose whether you'll be a part of that family emotionally, physically; whether you extend or receive love; whether you keep relationships at arm's length or pull family in close. 

The stage is set at birth. Your biological parent's lives are going in one direction or another when you show up. You can't move pieces of their lives to fit a particular picture of what would look ideal. You are completely dependent on them and basically anyone old enough to keep you alive. Being fed, clothed, sheltered, proper emotional attachment and bonding are basically all that's needed. Nothing else really matters.   

I think of my own beginnings, arriving into the arms of a busy, young mother of two boys. She and my dad went on to have many more children. I've enjoyed asking questions and writing about that time in my family history. It's unique, as every birth is from any given time in human history. 

My husband was born to parents enjoying life as expatriates in the Middle East. He grew up hearing stories but his early memories begin here in the States, the family's departure due to rising powers in local government. In contrast, my first, clear memories are defined by my family's arrival on foreign soil, new life beginning as unlikely first-generation missionaries.  

My blue-eyed firstborn arrived after much prayer and a few medical appointments. Our brown-eyed kids were placed with us after a remarkable decision was made by family members that altered the course of their lives. As scary and upended as things appeared on the outside, I firmly believe God was as much involved in their well-being as he was in our first son birthed into our hearts and home. 

Thanksgiving highlights the family along with traditions that can help build familial units. Whatever yours looks like past to present, I hope and pray you find the God-given strength to extend all the things Christ has extended to us over and over and over.