We were about 20 minutes or so into our trip north when I sent the Snapchat to my family: “We’re on our way!”
As the day went on, I started to get snaps from other family members. My youngest sister had said that she and our parents would be leaving soon.
My teenage nephew said that they were “finally” on their way; they, one of my other sisters, brother-in-law, and their eight year old daughter, had the furthest to come living in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
My husband and I had arrived at the campground first, as I had wanted to – so that my husband and I would have a little quiet time to explore, but also so that we would be there to help my parents get settled into their cabin when they arrived.
Not long after my youngest sister and my parents had arrived, I got a video by Snapchat. The one sister I hadn’t yet heard from was filming that familiar, fantastic drive along the bay. She and my brother-in-law and their baby and my oldest niece, who lived with them at the time while she started her life after high school, were almost there!
It was a fun four days of making memories. My whole family was there for the entire camping trip at the place our family had come to love decades ago.
It was a special week, rare and precious as most, if not all of us wondered if we would be able to do it again given our aging parents, nieces and nephew heading out to start their own lives, and the ever-present challenge of matching schedules.
Our family has never been perfect. No family is. But we have also been close, having been able to work through the issues and to continue to move forward without carrying too much baggage along.
Not long after that wonderful week though, I watched as some relationships started to unravel within the family.
As a writer I have to use discretion as to how much detail I share from my personal life. That being the case, and because most of you know because you’ve had family drama of your own, I will spare you the details.
I will also avoid sharing the details in order to avoid causing further hurt to the people involved. I hope at some point there will be apologies made and relationships will begin to heal.
The current state of our family feels a little like a loss to me. I’ll miss the Snapchats and PMs when Michigan starts to play football – who will I complain to about the refs bad calls? while my husband has to work during the game? Who will I celebrate those TDs with?
What will the holidays look like this year now that some communication has been cut off between family members?
Summer just hasn’t felt the same in the last few weeks. Even my husband’s and my three-day trip two weeks ago wasn’t what our trips usually are. Not every vacation can be the favorite vacation, but this one was challenging. I hadn’t been looking forward to it for several reasons, and I think I brought some extra baggage with me this time too.
Though we truly tend to have fun no matter where we go because we’re together, we struggled this time as we worked to communicate what we’re thinking about life’s challenges, and about how we see the future unfolding.
We weren’t really able to reach any resolutions, but the good news is that we had a fun evening out once we got home the Friday of that week.
As I write this blog, I am just hours from the conclusion of summer for me. It’s the Sunday before the fall semester begins.
My husband and I began the day as we always do if we’re in town, by going to the 9:30 service at the church we attend. His sister is in the hospital again; I was – and am – dreading my fall semester schedule; and I really wasn’t “feeling” being in church this morning.
At the end of the sermon, our pastor very eloquently wrapped the announcement of his early retirement into his closing remarks.
Our pastor had previously announced to the congregation that he was planning to retire in June of 2019. Today he told us that he had been in conversation with the leaders of the church and of the local governing body for our conference, and that his last day of service to our church would be September 30. His wife has been battling cancer. She has made some choices regarding her treatment, and he has chosen to be available to meet her needs at this time.
I cried again this morning, along with nearly everyone in the service. It feels like another loss in a long list of little losses in my life over the last few months and even year or so.
As I thought about the tears I’ve cried over the last few months and even years over failure and loss, and as I thought about our pastor, who will be missed, I was reminded of something I once considered sharing with him.
When things are easy and life is good for a leader of a church, it’s easy for that person to stand in a pulpit and tell everyone to be grateful through all circumstances and to keep the faith no matter what. But when you as a member of the congregation know even a little bit about the quiet struggles that the leader of your congregation is facing, it actually means something to see that person living what he’s preaching.
Journalist and Christian author Philip Yancey has said, “Pain is pain.” I appreciate his point, and I no longer seek to compare my level of hurt and loss with that of someone else. But as I thought about our pastor and what lies ahead for him and his wife, it inspires me to make the attempt to face the things that have hurt and that challenge me with more maturity and faith.
Time may heal some of the wounds within my family. Acceptance and gratitude may change my discontentment. Trust and hope may easy my anxiety.
Still I feel sadness this evening as I watch the final hours of my summer 2018 tick away.
The Listener 