In the middle of our earthly Christmas homegoing to visit parental home and family, my spiritual growth feels like a Band-aid over the gaping wound of my sinful nature and my brokenness. Feeling like a fragile fraud, a barely healed terminal patient, I teeter on the edge of acting like it still.
What, what, WHAT would I do without Christ!
Here in the fertile loam of my germination, the brand-new creature of my saved-and-still-in-the-process-of-being-sanctified self feels puny and fledgling, rather than strong and prospering.
Why do we feel like children when we visit our parents? Is this a lifelong malady?
The holidays remind us of our need for the Savior. We’re broken from cradle to grave. Our condition is, indeed, terminal.
Times of reminiscing over hardscrabble coal-mining lives, forged in hard times and hard ways, impresses upon me that each generation has much to overcome. We all strive to give our children better than we had, to love them better, to overcome the pains of our own upbringing as our parents struggled to overcome theirs, each generation doing the best it can.
I set out to be a mother who would nurture perfectly, never repeating the errors of previous generations, never raising voice or lifting hand or showing favoritism, never stymying, never belittling. Patient, affirming, calm, gentle, and wise was my plan. It was their plan, too.
Of course, none of us could do it. My fallen self couldn’t carry this out flawlessly for thirty-five years of parenting. I often failed. I often apologized. I still do.
Back in the locus of the family homestead once more, I feel the weight of my failures. I am that broken, naive girl again, thinking she can do what no other human being has accomplished: Perfection. Previous generations have tried and failed. I have, too.
No human being, but One, has succeeded.
Jesus, fully God and full man, lived in his human family, holy and unscathed, untainted by their sinfulness, absorbing the pain of his wounded and broken parents and grandparents and siblings, rather than passing it on. Taking all their sins and failures upon himself, he was wounded for their transgressions and for ours.
How we need him to absorb our wounds and eradicate our pain!
Because of his tender mercy, kindness, and love, we celebrate his natal Self, mindful that he grew up as a tender shoot and then made the ultimate sacrifice: the giving of himself to save us from ourselves.
What a Savior! Jesus, we thank you on this day of remembrance!
Tears fill my eyes as I read. We have discussed this before. The things I wish I could go back and do over. In my mind I go back and think of the colicy baby I would hold and rock rather than put her down to cry it out as I was instructed to do by mother and grandmother. Of course, I thought they knew best. We all did what we thought was best at the time. Looking back, I see many things I wish I could go back and take back.
No do-overs! I’m so sorry! Not only do I need the forgiveness of my Heavenly Father, but my daughters, grandchildren, husband,other family members, and so many I don’t even realize that I might have hurt. Yes, I need this Savior! I’m so thankful that He has taken my sins and has given me His righteousness for that time when I stand before the Judgment Seat. When I behold His face, I shall fall at His feet and worship Him.
Amen! I feel exactly the same. I love you, Mom.
Constantly failing and constantly asking God’s forgiveness, I SO appreciate the relationships He restores when I ask His forgiveness … the relationships with Him, with those who hurt me, and with those I hurt. My need for my precious Savior and His continual restoration always illustrate to me His amazing grace! God is so good! God is Love! God is Mercy! How I love my precious Savior! If it takes more and more revelation of my own sinfulness and neediness, then bring on the revelation! Jesus is worth it all!
Love and thanks, Melinda!
Aunt Jackie
This is so true! The closer I get to Him, the more I recognize my desperate need for Him and the more aware I am of how very sinful I am and how very much I need to grow. I love you, Aunt Jackie.
I love you, too, sweet Melinda!
I love you too! Thanks for being so transparent.
I have to peel back the skin and write what my heart says. You know that. 🙂 Love you, too, Mom.
You are so blessed to have family that is supportive and is willing to say “I’m sorry” for the ways they’ve fallen short. I’ve been trying to practice this for my own children, but I have not ever heard it from my family of origin. It would be very healing if that were to happen. And in that, we offer healing to others when we confess that we mess up, we hurt, and we let down. Even if all of that is unintentional (and it usually is), it still is a necessary part of having healthy, ongoing relationships. Great post.
I so agree! While we live our lives in active pursuit of Christ, who does the work in us, bringing us to repentance and toward reconciliation, the process of admitting and apologizing from the previous generation was something we had to give to God and await for a very long time. And yet, in final days it came in their own way. We grabbed up with both hands what was offered, knowing the stoicism and broken relationships that had formed their lives. The thief on the cross uttered only a few words, yet Jesus accepted him in. We had to follow likewise, if we are to walk in Jesus’ steps. Was/is it difficult? Yes! It often requires revisiting and forgiving again, for the living and the dead. It takes God’s grace. That’s the only way through. May the Lord pour out his grace upon you in this, Michelle. God bless you, sister.