Monday, October 20, 2014
The conception of a family
We faced each other in a room of people, hands held, and I swayed a little with my weight on one leg, dizzy from pain and the pills to mute it, looking in his eyes. And we promised to take each other on as family, no matter what - that which was not flesh and blood now fused mysteriously - body and soul and flesh.
We promised to love, knowing we would fail often.
We promised to stay, knowing, at times, we would want to leave.
We promised to see each other, really see who this other is, in a world where the eyes miss so much.
This blonde American with this black haired Mexican, in both Spanish and English, for the first time chose our own family.
And so, with the questions coming not long into this story of marriage - But when are you going to start a family? - I squirm inside, protesting. But don't you see? We already have.
For what constitutes a family?
For us: One Mexican, one American, one Russian tortoise.
This, right now, is our family.
It may or may not grow bigger, but our love, will this not swell? And as it swells, will we not also spread open our arms and give away the increase?
It is not children who make a family a Family. It is people, loving each other, in abundance and in lack, in sickness and in health, in desire and in struggle, till death do us part.
And the glue of Grace holding all our fragile, fickle promises together; this family God's created, calling us good.
Linking up with Unforced Rhythms.