I am sitting at my desk at the moment, eating a bite of lunch. As I made my lunch today, I thought of a specialty coffee that I love, and so I’m having that also. Now, the first time I ever had that coffee was when I stayed with my niece before and after the birth of her son (her mother and mother-in-law living too far to get to do that for her). One morning, while she was in the hospital and I was taking care of her little girl, I wanted some coffee very much. I didn’t have a car seat to take Ella out to get some, and I hadn’t seen a coffee maker or anything coffee-related around the kitchen, so I opened a few cupboard doors looking for something to assuage my longing. Finally, I found a little can that said ‘Café Vienna’ on the side. I hesitated. I knew it would be sweet, and sweet coffee has never appealed to me, so I weighed my options. Finally, my longing for some coffee out-weighed my distaste for sweet coffee, so I boiled some water and made a cup. Before my niece got home from the hospital, I had devoured her whole little can of it with a promise of replenishing her supply as soon as I could get out to do so.
I have no idea how many cans of that coffee I have purchased in the years since that time. I love it. It’s a special treat. But still (and probably always) I think of Candace with every single cup. I remember the honor of being entrusted with the care of her daughter, and the special way she has shown her love and trust to me through the years.
When Candace was fairly newly married and her husband was still in seminary, she was surprised with an unplanned pregnancy causing somewhat of a dilemma since they needed the income from her job. Babysitters are costly and cannot usually give the attention and love to a baby that they need. Even though we lived about 50 minutes apart, she drove 30 minutes in our direction each day to work, bringing her only 20 minutes from our house. Suddenly I realized it was within the realm of possibility for ME to care for her baby! I met her at her job each day to pick up Ella and I got to love on her for the first whole year of her life! What fun cuddle times we had! I, whose baby had just left for grad school leaving me with no one to need my care any more—or so I had thought. God had better plans!
And then there’s Courtney. Courtney is another niece who encourages me with emails and memories that she cherishes of times we had together in her growing-up years. In spite of the fact that we’ve moved hundreds of miles away, she continues to stay in touch, wrapping me in her love when I need it most.
Of course, Jenni’s special too. Jenni and I discovered years ago that our taste in most things is identical—in spite of the generation difference. Her mother (my sister) and I love each other dearly, but are about as opposite as any two siblings could ever be, but her daughter is just like ME! I’ve always loved that. Especially since I didn’t have any daughters of my own.
I have many nieces and nephews, and each one is special in their own way. Jeremy comes to visit us out here, Jeff always shows me the WONDERFUL things he is building—letting me tour his renovated historic houses at midnight or whenever it works for us both when I’m ‘back home’ and have the time.
Once years ago, one of my brothers and his wife had to go away without their three little girls for several days. We kept the little girls (they’re not little anymore!) and I had SO much fun! (Me, the mother of two sons.) We painted nails, styled hair, watched teary movies, and cuddled at bedtime. It was such a special time for me—and my brother and sister-in-law knew that those little girls would be well-cared-for while they were away.
Family is a special gift from God in so very many ways. It gives us a place to belong; the security of knowing we are special to someone—in fact, more than special: we are held dear by someone. We are allowed to give our opinions—whether or not it’s requested. It may not be agreed with, but it’s still respected—sometimes with some smiles or even chuckles, and maybe even the rolling of eyes, but that’s ok where there’s love. We are allowed to be exactly who God created us to be.
When I was growing up in that houseful of brothers and sisters, I had no idea how very blessed I was, and how I would grow to cherish the very gift of my family. I wanted to be me; I wanted to be alone; I wanted space; I wanted quiet; I definitely wanted less BOYS to tease me with dead mice. But at this point in my life, looking back, looking around, looking ahead—I wouldn’t trade one of them for anything! God’s plans and ways are always good. Why does it take us so long to see it sometimes?