Part 3: Family

 Parents and Ancestors

This entry was a little easier than I expected... And I think sets a good precedent for logic processes for the other two entries. I suppose I give this domain in my life a low score... but I do feel confident that... whatever I am currently doing is my best, and I live into all I have written to the best of my abilities. I do not know how to do more than what I am, at this time, and I am not currently experiencing or causing any pain, except when I forget to call my grandma... on her birthday... which was yesterday. 

(Before we get into it all, though, can we just acknowledge how amazing it is to sop up almost any soup, chili, or stew with buttered bread? Ensouled. Tinctured communion with Autumn herself. Ahh! I purchased some things to bring to a thanksgiving get-together, but I should have invested in beef stock, instead. sigh...)

Anyway,

I was actually the youngest genealogist in my little town, and the library made a special "student" designation for me to use microfiche since I was otherwise under-age to join the "genealogists guild," or whatever it was called. It all started with a little scrap of paper I once found in a book, when I was about nine or so, and I noticed that there were names I didn't recognise. So I asked my dad, then I asked my grandparents, then I started mapping it out. It seemed that we had come from somewhere, and it suddenly became a fascination for me to try to map out what could be an infinite chain back through Canada, to England and Scotland to... Greece. The only ancient world I knew, from Aesop's fables. It was around this time that I also attempted to read scripture, but had no help, and tapped out at Genesis 9. It did not occur to me that I could find a link, because it seemed very far away, though. 

My family didn't have a particular set of rules or tenets that we followed, although growing up in a Christian society either way, most of what I was taught was largely within the realm of the ten commandments, though covetousness was left out. Lying was the most capital sin. Everything seemed to revolve around honesty... Self-sufficiency... and pride. And when I say pride, I do think in the sinful and normal way. We were to have pride in the way we were, what we had, and our family-- particularly our immediate one. Intelligence, strength, beauty, honour. Not too bad, honestly. Stories like Robinhood and King Arthur, and bringing the world to right. A shadow of God but still colourful, beautiful. 

But later, things went awry, for various reasons, and we lost our way, too, without anything to hold onto. I don't get angry anymore, but it is sad. And so this brings to me to the short, sweet answer I have to the question of the fifth commandment vs "who are my brothers and sisters?": That in Christ, we are all brothers and sisters. We are all made into a new family. And we should honour those who come before us in that Christian tradition, as well as those in the Jewish lines that carried the promise from Abraham, and lived and died so that their children would know God. 

But I think too, that in the spirit of embodiment, one cannot forget or simply cut themselves off from their relatives. I mean... I believe firmly that "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb," but it is a curious thing on a human level to really be able to erase our pasts. I think that God has this power, to separate us and let us walk forward leaving any number of things behind... but in a practical sense, while we are still trying to operate here, I think the best we really can do is keep our eyes on Christ while still walking through this world of fleshy things. Whether that is a bloody history or a broken home, I think that we need to acknowledge what history is still happening around us every day, and is part of the bumps and scars that come from life, generally, that shape us and make us who we are, and challenge us to keep trying to be better. 

The ideal, of course, is that to whatever degree our situations are less than ideal, we can forgive, assess, and move forward, breaking the patterns of pain and letting God step into our lives where, in our humanity, we all fall short. I believe this is a way to bestow honour-- to accept with grace what great or little we can from those who come before us, use it to the best of our abilities, and offer grace in return as it has been given to us from God-- knowing that there is none of us who is greater or lesser than the other under Him. 

On occasion, I still like to dabble in my genealogy, but I confess that it doesn't feel the same anymore. It doesn't have the answers I was once looking for, about myself, our origins, or perhaps even our future. All of these things we have already been given. 

All that said, and for the record, it was only with extreme difficulty that I was able to separate myself from my family, because it was the only way to protect myself and find what I needed to find, but I would be lying to say that it was the same as separating from anyone else. There is something special... something that has so much potential to run deep, and sew gold threads into our lives, that it is a tragic tie to break, if it can be broken at all. We should not... ever forget that. In a world where so much of what is sacred is being downplayed to lessen the pain of its absence, let's remember that it is so painful, because real familial love and generational ties are so precious. 

Children

"... We will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done... He decreed statutes for Jacob and established the law in Israel, which he commanded our ancestors to teach their children... Then they would put their trust in God and would not forget his deeds but would keep his commands." - Psalm 78: 4, 5, 7 (NIV)

I think that, given the process of discernment of the previous entry, it is safe to give a short statement that I believe that "Go forth and multiply" and the Great Commission complement each other in the same way. In Christ, we are all part of the same family, and our legacy is not tied to blood, but to common divine inheritance. One's spiritual children can be from anywhere, and be any age, to the extent that they may even be older than you in human years. We learn and grow alongside each other through our interactions, shared burdens, and when the Spirit speaks through us to each other. It's beautiful, challenging, and what we are called to do at the same time; strengthening not just our individual but collective purpose.

But children in a physical sense, are not obsolete, as far as our emotions, callings, and personal challenges go, and I think the ideal here, too, just like with our predecessors, is to give all we can, and hope that with what we have managed to muster, they will go even farther, having stood on our shoulders. 

I had previously thought that this question had been already answered for me some time ago, however it has popped up in my life again, to some extent. As someone who is celibate (by choice and chagrin, ha), it is already a moot point, before my own sterility comes into question, and yet... And yet, my recent doctor's appointment indicated that I may have as much as a thirty-percent chance of being able to conceive, due to a medical oversight that I was previously not made aware of. And so, a door I had planned to close has been thirty-percent opened. That said, I have also, at this point, made peace with the idea that my only children will be spiritual ones, and if I had to make a choice, that is the one I would have chosen, anyway. My only actual drive to have my own children, besides biological desires, my natural love of children, and a deep desire to love, generally, is largely a romantic notion, too. To somehow become one flesh and hold some part of the one I love in my body, even fleetingly; to suffer, even, and to bring something of him, and us, out in the world. And then to nurture it, teach it... Ah... And yet, this is in a bubble... my own heart/thought bubble, where people do not take advantage of other people, or baby-trap them, and where people genuinely love each other and decide to have children out of that love, rather than as a matter of course or accident. This most sacred thing, and the biggest pain in my heart, surrounding it, is how easily it is profaned. And I have enough experience with children that I know it is not all sunshine, but there are too many children who are born in the storm. That's part of why I didn't have them myself, when I was younger, and yet, now they are not here at all, even as I am still thankful that I was not bound, back then, in such a way. I would have never escaped. 

And so, I give no score to this measure of happiness in my life, because I am already blessed in many ways, and the future is still unknown and unplannable in this respect. Perhaps others have finished this task, never were able to start, or never quite felt finished. Whatever the state, I think we can all take heart that... when it comes to these deep and meaningful choices, that should not be made lightly, God steps into our brokenness and grief, as much as He is with us in our joys. There are so many different paths we can take in life, and so many opportunities to love and care for each other, whether we are cute, brand new people, or not. So many ways to touch and hold each other, whether our children are flesh or not. Many ways to be fruitful, and fill what cups have been given to us. Because just like in all other parts of life, some people are fortunate enough to be blessed with all the right conditions, and many don't know what they have; while others have to fight. But this is just life. Whatever cups we hold, let them be full. 

God rains on the just and unjust alike... But He does reign. 

Marriage and Celibacy

This topic is more of a thought experiment to me now, rather than anything particularly pressing. I will try to behave myself. 

This is generally a difficult topic for me because it overlaps into what should probably be its own "romantic life" category, but I also feel strange speaking to marriage, since like many ideals I only know the shape of them through absence and observation of others. That said, my understanding is that a marriage partnership should be one of mutual sacrifice, and equal yoking, perhaps even ideally where each person feels lucky to have the other. There are ups and downs, challenges met together, joys and experiences shared together... And just... An unfurling of all the depth and intimacy that we might possibly share with another person, second only to God. Argh, and how often this aspiration, this ideal, is also profaned. (Dearest reader-- my heart). I do give myself some credit because my own previous relationship would not have lasted so long if I was not so hopelessly idealistic about giving myself to the other, but continued to forget the mutual part, assuming I was just being too demanding if I asserted myself, until "I" was nearly lost. This is a personal mistake that I will not be making again. 

That said, I don't find celibacy particularly difficult, logistically... I still yearn for touch even as its memory fades, and I occasionally get sent some pleasant dreams. But as a modern lady I also know how to handle myself, and I tend to only have urges as a result of romantic attachment, so even though I live alone I am not evaluating every man I see as potential prey. I suppose I may have this advantage over a man in my same position. 

But the apostle Paul talks about remaining celibate if we can... and I admit I can see the advantages, again logistically, if one were able to otherwise support themselves. The jumpstart solitude gives one at identifying and meeting one's own needs is incredible. I feel absurdly in touch with myself and self-aware, without distraction, to the point that I can see how prolonged bachelorhood could easily slide one into self-absorption, if you weren't called to something greater to have at least some moderation implied. My own friends who have been single for a long time have said they find it harder each passing year, even as they are lonely, to imagine "partnering" with anyone, because they become so settled in their ways. 

However, despite Paul's apocalyptic recommendations, continued celibacy will not be my plan A. I have too much of a romantic... skeleton, and while I would be a fully-capable theologian or minister with just a cat, I would feel like I was missing some part of myself if I was left without love in my life. The love of God simply is not the same, because God is incorporeal and in my opinion. should not be anthropomorphized as such. I have tried it. But I don't think that's how it was meant to be, anyway. Because God said "it is not right for Adam to be alone," implying the need for someone at peer level, since if God could fill that role, He would have... and he did, with the creation of Eve. In this way, God's love sanctifies our natural longing for each other.

So... Ultimately I believe that marriage is the ideal, even though we will all be brothers and sisters in heaven. I also believe that celibacy is a calling that is legitimate, but I do not have it. Men and women have parts of themselves that complement each other in body, mind, and soul, and this should not be overlooked or assumed unnecessary just because it is hard to find. I want to get married. Really married, someday. Not a stupid, expensive, crazy thing, but just, an acknowledgement of a desire of two people to experience life together... To look forward to each night, each morning, each changing season with someone who makes my soul sing, mutually. If this is too much to ask... then I suppose my calling will be plan B, but I pray, and I wait, and I dream.