Tip of My Iceberg

We were all there. Minus two. And we missed those two dearly.

Gathering thirty of us for a family getaway was a miracle in itself. There may be a preponderance of us in Orlando, but we’re spread across the country. We have that wonderfully amazing gift of our individual family members enjoying being together, so this was a treat for each of us.

We were in West Virginia, with signs all over the place paying homage to John Denver’s song “Almost Heaven, West Virginia,” not just on walls, but on shirts, sweatshirts, knick-knacks, and such.

Having us all together in such a beautiful place was, indeed, a little bit of heaven.

We hiked, sat around the fire, played games, listened to the kids laugh and scream, and joked with one another as only family can do. Sure, there were squabbles and disagreements. After all, families are made up of perfectly messy people. But the chance to be together, to talk about life as each of us experiences it in the moment, to listen to the hearts of those closest to us, is a gift.

I know families don’t always get along. I’ve raised six children who, for all their quirks, have become responsible, enjoyable, gracious adults.

Those delightful adults haven’t always gotten along well. As children, they had their issues with one another, just like every other family. With five girls and one boy, my son received his share of the drama of his sisters. And the girls would annoy the dickens out of each other, borrowing clothes without asking, not respecting each other’s personal space, and complaining about which chores should be done by who.

What I valued was that they respected each other enough to apologize.

Not all families have that dynamic.

Joseph was one of Jacob’s twelve sons. He was unabashedly his father’s favorite because he was born when his father was old. Jacob went so far as to give Joseph a special multi-colored robe. He wasn’t a favorite of his brothers, however, because he insisted on tattling on his brothers; they rarely had a kind word for him.

It got so bad that his brothers decided the best thing for them was to get rid of Joseph. At first, they decided killing him would end their problems, but ultimately they decided to sell him as a slave to the Ishmaelites who were headed to Egypt.

Joseph became a slave in the home of Potiphar, one of Pharaoh’s officers. Potiphar appreciated Joseph’s work ethic and learned to trust him, and God blessed Potiphar’s household because of Joseph. His wife, who had designs on the boy because he was handsome, lied that he had tried to sleep with her. Joseph was thrown into prison.

Joseph was in prison for about thirteen years. He was called upon one night when Pharaoh had a difficult dream, and since Joseph had interpreted dreams for two prisoners, he was called upon to interpret Pharaoh’s. The dream was about seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine, and Joseph suggested a way to provide for the Egyptian people during the famine. Pharaoh made him second in command, dealing with the food supply issue.

When the famine hit, Jacob’s family was starving, so he sent his other eleven sons to Egypt to purchase food. The brothers didn’t recognize Joseph, but he recognized them. After some time, he revealed himself to his brothers, forgiving them for how they’d treated him. He told them, “Don’t be afraid of me. Am I God, that I can punish you? You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good. He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people.” Genesis 50:20.

Forgiveness in families is a necessity. We will hurt each other; hurting people tend to hurt others. But with a heart of forgiveness, families have a bond greater than their disputes.

Our family had minor disputes while we were together, but apologies were made, and forgiveness was offered.

If we could see humanity as one big family, doesn’t it make sense to live with a heart of forgiveness rather than bearing grudges? That would be heaven.