Blessed

Some people asked me if I had “reverse culture shock” on my trip back to the U.S. for Christmas. I didn’t. But I did have “season shock.” The weather is very cheery here in the summer, as long as you have a little rain-tolerance. But I spent three days in DC, two in Ohio and the only sunshine I saw was out the window of an airplane and from my friends who overwhelmed me by being very happy to see me.

I don’t know if it is because I’m secure or insecure, but I spend very little time thinking about whether other people actually, really, truly love me. I just don’t spend much time assuming either that they do or they don’t. So when it was abundantly obvious that several people really missed me and were happy to see me back, I was overwhelmed and very humbled. Even my “professional colleagues” let on like it was great to see me.

And then, of course, there’s the family. I have a new nephew names Sebastian so I had to get home and make up for lost time in establishing myself as a presence in his life. And my sister is recently engaged so I had to put my retroactive brother’s-seal-of-approval on that. Matt is cool and smart. He’s so cool and smart that my only fear is that I will have to forever give up my aspiration to be the coolest, smartest brother in the family (a heretofore undeclared hope that I have secretly harbored).

You may have gathered that I wasn’t exactly the center of attention at my family’s Christmas celebration. But then, with my family, it’s not that important. All jesting aside, my family is big and it’s crowded when we’re all home, but somehow they still have time for everyone. I had special time with my grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and especially my parents, brothers, and sisters. (The nephew category contains insufficient data for reliable evaluation.)

My family and friends love me, they push me toward what is good and they support my decision to go to Malawi, but they don’t try to control me.

If you’ve read this far, you may be reaching the conclusion that has been dawning on me over the past few months – I am the most blessed person I know. And I can’t take any credit for it. If anyone wants to dispute that title, be my guest; I would be thrilled to share it. I have been afraid to say so in so many words for fear that something would happen and it would no longer be true.

So what’s my secret? I try to follow God and His ways but that effort is probably more often pathetic than heroic. I try to love my friends and family but without some serious doses of grace and forgiveness they would all have written me off a long time ago.

My secret is actually a troubling one – life isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that I am the most blessed person I know. I haven’t earned it and better people than me can’t say it. It is a strange thing, but when I struggle with the fact that life isn’t fair, it is usually because I have it so much better than I should. And when I think of my blessings I know that since I have not earned them it is beyond my control to keep them.

It may not always be that I am the most blessed person I know. But for now it is. And I’m trying to be thankful.