Sunday, April 12, 2020

True Acceptance, True Belonging, Unconditional Love


Growing up, my family would make an annual pilgrimage north.  The drive from Florida to Michigan was an excruciatingly long trip.  Sometimes it would take 20 hours, depending on how many times we stopped.  As we entered Michigan, we would move from interstate to country roads.  The ups and downs of the back roads felt like a rollercoaster from the back seat.  My stomach would drop with each wave of pavement.  Looking out the front window to the horizon was the only way to ease my car sickness. 

In my mind, getting to the edge of town seemed to take forever.  Finally, familiar landmarks would come into view.  I’d spy Gene’s Shell station out the window and I could barely contain myself.  I would shake with excitement and sometimes an “EEP” would slip out of my mouth!  One more turn and we would arrive at our destination. 

The brown Burgee Insurance building (now Edward Jones) on the right side of the road indicated it was time to turn.  That brown building was like a large “welcome home” sign.  We would turn into the narrow driveway leading to the house and I could feel myself bouncing in my seat.  My parents, on the other hand, sat still, letting go a collective sigh.  The long journey was over; until it was time to head south.

The side door of the charming Cape Cod would open and there stood my Grandpa.  He was dressed in coveralls, arms open wide, with a smile so big you could see his gold filing.  He would lean down for a big, sloppy kiss that made a loud “mwah” sound.  Then he’d scoop me up in his arms for a great, big hug and say “Oh, oh, oh” through a jolly chuckle.  My grandma would greet us in the kitchen, usually with a towel in hand, having just sat down a plate of cookies.  She was a beautiful woman with high cheek bones, porcelain skin, and the most delicate smile.  As only the best hostesses do, she’d insist you come right in, sit down and relax. 

The same anticipation and excitement came over me every single time we made the trip, no matter how old I was.   Pulling into that driveway meant I was about to see two people who loved me like I was their own grandchild and treated me no differently.  True acceptance, true belonging, unconditional love.  It meant I was going to see my three sisters.  Sisters by marriage, but what did that matter to us.  It meant I was going to see my aunt and uncle and cousins who I loved spending time with as well.  I tried so hard to enjoy those times because I knew our time together would fly by and before I knew it we would be headed back home.

I often wished the United States could be rearranged so Michigan and Florida were closer together.  I would daydream about what it would be like to live near my Michigan family on a daily basis.  Our summers together were often full of adventure, fighting, and family meetings.  In the moment, I think we all wondered how we would ever survive each other.  But, as I look at the totality of my life, those summer memories are precious treasure hidden deep within my heart. 

The tradition of a yearly trip continued as an adult.  The driveway we pulled into was different, but the anticipation and excitement had not changed.  What became harder were the goodbyes.  I not only had to say goodbye, but my kids did too.  The tears would come as my daydreams faded through the rearview mirror. 

The other day I was driving towards the grocery store and I had a thought that broke my heart.  I passed Gene’s shell station and realized that the landmark no longer evokes the same emotions it once did.  The first couple of months after moving to Michigan, I would drive past my grandparent’s old house and those familiar landmarks and pinch myself.  I just couldn’t believe we were living in Michigan.  My daydreams had finally become reality.  That was a year ago.

My last year in Georgia was a difficult year.  I spent it walking through the stages of grief.  I was grieving relationships with people who were still very much alive, which I think is one of the hardest kinds of grief.  But, the Lord taught me some valuable lessons about myself and others.  Slowly, I was able to heal, grow, and move forward. 

But, again, I find myself cycling the stages of grief.  My reality in Michigan looks nothing like I had envisioned or planned and that has been hard for me to accept. 

Maybe my expectations were unrealistic or were not in line with the expectations of others.  Anne Lamott once said, “Expectations are resentments waiting to happen”.  I can see that could be true.  So, is the solution to live a life with no expectations?  That seems a lot easier said than done.  Expectations are hard to let go of, especially if they are ones you have been building up your whole life.  God, why would you allow our move to Michigan not meet my expectations?  Many sleepless nights I’ve contemplated this and searched for a way to fix it. 

I have sat on this post for several days, not knowing how to end it.  Wouldn’t it be great if there was a neat and tidy bow wrapped around it – a happily ever after? 

Instead, God gave me His explanation of things as I watched the Easter service this morning.  I had to laugh through my tears.  The process God uses to show Himself and His love does not match up with our expectations of God and His love.  We tend to think that if God loves us He should meet our expectations and bless us with a life exactly as we envisioned.  Uncomplicated, right?

But, if I am honest, I cannot think of a single time my life has worked out this way.  So, why should I expect it to now?  Over and over the complexity of life, the complexity of relationships – the hurts, heartbreaks, and heaviness have lead me to think, surely this cannot be from the Lord.  But…

What if, He uses this process of revealing our humanness to further illuminate His holiness?  What if He separates us from our expectations to make room for Him to move and work supernaturally in our lives?  What if through this process of examining and refining our hearts, we learn how to communicate, forgive, and love more like Jesus?  What if His process of showing Himself and His love far exceeds anything we could have ever have dreamed, planned for, or expected?

The process God uses to show Himself and His love does not match up with our expectations of God and His love.  Hearing this today has been a game changer (which ironically was the name of the sermon)! 

I am ready to stop my lamenting and questioning.  I am ready to unclench my fistful of expectations and allow God…

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