So there’s this hymn we have in the LDS Church titled ‘Love at Home’. I think it’s stupid. The melody is trivial, the undercurrents of emotion near-nonexistent, and the lyrics are downright idiotic. It goes on and on about how time softly, sweetly glides by and flowers bloom beneath your feet when love is in the home.
When love is in the home, laughter rings so loudly you can’t hear yourself think. When love is in the home, you know that when you walk through the door of your house your opinion matters and you’re treated like you’re wanted. Love is even in the sarcastic comments and blunt statements about your personal problems that could be taken offensively when meant well. If life with love were as unutterably dull as that song portrays, I would revolt.
But I know what it’s like to have love at home. It’s beautiful in the way that an electrifying passage or a legato strand are. It’s overcoming your mistakes together, growing together like grafted branches onto a mother tree.
My family is unorthodox. We’re weird. Only those closest to us know the full extent of that weirdness, but it’s something that’s kept us together, laughing, and happy. It’s what gets us through the times that feel like our hearts are going to break. I would be dead without my family — I’m sure of it. I have confidence because my family taught me of my worth. They are my strength. I’m basically a little cherry on the tip of the tree that is my family. They hold me up, nourish me, and prepare me to lift into the world in the most glorious of ways.
I want to do a post on how families are dissintegrating in today’s society — but not today. Today’s post is on the importance and beauty of family. True family. Not that guy over there that is biologically related to you but has hardly ever spoken to you. Not the woman that beat you until you wanted to kill yourself. That’s not family. Family is your security, the ones who make you feel safe and loved in a world that would strip you of everything good. It is a gift from God.