Family

What does it mean to be family? What does a family look like to you? I was thinking about this last week while in church. I was looking around and thinking about being a part of a church family and what that meant and how it relates to being a part of the family of God. I had even been thinking about coming here and writing out my thoughts on the subject.  We left the service, went to a nice lunch with some of that church family and then were running errands. It was a beautiful day and we were enjoying the time and making plans. Then my phone rang. It was a call that would shatter our day and our hearts. It also led to a week of knowing what family really means. 

I was blessed to be raised in an amazing family. I have parents that love us, a brother and sister, and as families do, this family has grown. Just this past August we celebrated my Mom and Dad, and their 50th wedding anniversary. This included family photos where our original family of five is now 13. Three generations and a legacy built from this young couple that fell in love. This is family. 

I was double blessed when I married my husband and became a part of his family. In-laws that love us, a sister and her husband and a niece and nephew. Then our own daughters and, as is supposed to happen, the men in their lives. This is family. 

What makes us family? Is it genetics? Or marriage? Or is it something much deeper.   There is a passage of scripture that used to bother me, but then I began to see what Jesus was trying to say to us about family.    

Matthew 12:46-50

While Jesus was still talking to the crowd, his mother and brothers stood outside, wanting to speak to him. Someone told him, "Your mother and brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you."   He replied to him, "Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?" Pointing to his disciples, he said, "Here is my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my Father in Heaven is my brother and sister and mother."

Family is necessary and important to God. But it does not always mean just those with whom we share a blood line. Maybe family are those included in holidays, birthdays, and other important milestones. Maybe family are those you call on when you have an immediate emergency and need help.  Maybe family are those who become such an integral part of all the above mentioned moments, you no longer separate them from those who share your name.  Maybe family are those who never have to knock. The ones you trust to enter your home, with no idea of its current state, to help find a kid's volleyball shorts needed for a game. The ones you trust with your kids and pets. The ones allowed to help themselves to anything in your fridge or pantry. The one with the laugh that you can hear echoing through your halls along with those kids that kind of look like you.

John 1:12-13

"Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God-children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God"

Maybe it is important in this rambling to mention we are a Navy family. This is a whole special kind of family, but mostly it means we do not always get to live close to that genetic family, and we learn to rely on and bond with those whom God places in our lives. About 12 years ago we moved to Upstate New York; our family is all down south. 

Eleven years ago we moved into this house. The first day we were here, there was a knock, and at our door stood three neighborhood kids asking to meet our kids.  One of the three was Riley Green. Not long after we met Riley's parents, Brian and Lisa, and found pretty quick kinship in a shared Navy background. Before long we were sharing cookouts and laughter. Our youngest, Hannah, and Riley were fast friends and cohorts in trouble. Lisa and I bonded over their misadventures, messy rooms, and exorbitant grocery bills. Our eldest, Randi, was ever the big sister. Eventually driving them to school, dealing with them being late, and complaining about how loud and dramatic they could be.

 All those important days from that time on included the Greens. When Randi did not want a big deal made of her high school graduation, and asked to only have family at the party, it included the Greens. When the other two graduated over the next  two years, we were together to watch and cheer and cry. When the Greens had extra points with Disney Vacation Club, it was us they took with them. Every year, at Easter I can count on a delivery of Easter bread from Lisa and any chance we get to use our smoker it is the Greens we invite over to feast. Finally, last November, when Hannah was planning her wedding and we kept having to shrink the guest list thanks to Covid, the Greens were among those we all refused to cut. This is family. 

Last Sunday, when that phone rang, and I picked up, it was Lisa's voice I heard. Only not like I had ever heard it before. Through her tears I heard the words, "Riley has died." It did not make sense; I must have misheard. I made her repeat it - "Riley has died." My heart shattered. He was not mine. We are not related in any physical way, but my heart shattered.  Riley, who is so alive in my head. Riley, who should come busting through my door anytime Hannah is home. Laughing, and probably up to no good. Riley, with his hugs that could melt away the worst kind of day. Riley and Hannah cackling like maniacs at 2am. As Randi and Hannah worked out getting home, we all had conversations with bosses and others, and tried to explain just who Riley is to us. He is our neighbor's son. He is Hannah's best friend. He is our friend's son. The kid next door. All of this is true and yet none of it fits quite right. Riley is in all the pictures. Prom, the school Marathon Dance, graduations, birthday dinners, the cruise we took, a trip to NYC, Hannah's wedding. Randi brought home a book by Cheryl Strayed. She has a chapter called "The Obliterated Place." She addresses a father who has lost his son and gives grace for that place that is left when one we love has died. Riley has left an obliterated place in our hearts. This is family.

We went to church today. It has been a week. The funeral has passed, but that emptiness remains. The grieving is just beginning, and the tears are bound to come and go for a long time to come. There is one more example of Jesus that comes to mind. When he went to the grave of Lazarus, he wept.  But there is more to this moment. Jesus knew how the story would end. He knew he was going to see Lazarus again. But still he wept. Lazarus was more than his friend, and more than a brother to Mary and Martha. Lazarus was family. The Greens are family. Riley is family.