Some of the family myths that float around at family gatherings remind me of those articles in The National Enquirer - long on sensation, short on facts.
Sometimes a myth springs up rather innocently out of simple misunderstanding of the facts, like the one about my father being in the mafia. He wasn't. But somehow my son misunderstood the true account he overheard as a child, and carried this wrong belief around for years. I wish I'd known sooner - I would've cleared the whole thing up with the facts.
Sometimes a myth springs up as an exaggeration of the facts, like the one about the family's giant poodle who was so smart he answered the phone or something like that.
Sometimes a myth springs up from repetition of a theme, like the one about the daughter-in-law who's just a bad wife and a bad mother. Pretty typical scenario here, nothing unusual. Mother-in-law casually weaves a couple of negative remarks into the conversation. You know the stuff. "I couldn't believe she fed that baby SHRIMP!". Or "She went off to a conference while the kids had chicken-pox." Sprinkle some facts into a story, spin it a little, and voila - we have a family myth, and a rather unflattering one...
Puts me in mind of the story of the prodigal son. After the prodigal son returns, the father orders a banquet to celebrate his return. When the good son asked 'hey, what's the party for', a servant told him the facts - your brother came home, so your father threw him a party -- but not the truth. The truth was -- your brother came home humbled, broken, and asking for forgiveness, then your father forgave him, and now they're celebrating their reunion. Sometimes there's a world of difference between the facts and the truth.
So here's the truth about just a few of our family myths that have been circulating lately.
(1) Was my father in the mafia?
No, he wasn't in the mafia, but he may have inadvertantly been employed by a mafia man. Here's the truth. My father accepted a job to manage a new business. The owner was not upset that the business lost money month after month after month. Didn't seem to concern him in the least. Hmmm. My father began to suspect that the business was a money-laundering operation, and he resigned (as tactfully and carefully as possible).
(2) Did I feed my baby shrimp?
No, I didn't feed my baby shrimp. But one time I wound up at Long John Silver's with some of the family. There weren't many items on the menu that my toddler could eat. I fed him cole slaw. Maybe not the best choice, but honestly, I was trying to be a good sport about the restaurant choice.
(3) Did I abandon my sick children with their helpless father?
No. Here's the truth. There was an overnight choir retreat, and I was choir pianist. We had planned to go as a family, but Zachary was just getting over chicken pox, and we knew Tyler and Lauren might break out any day. So they didn't need to go. Alton offered to stay home with them while Zach and I went on the retreat. It was a short retreat - just Friday evening and back by Saturday evening. Saturday morning, Alton called to say Tyler and Lauren had broken out. We had two rehearsals on Saturday and drove home. Here's the truth. Alton and I worked out a plan together as a team. He's not the kind of dad who grumbles about taking care of the kids. That's one of the ways he expresses love - by taking care of them. He appreciates that I lend a hand with earning a living. And I appreciate that he lends a hand with taking care of our children. The day-to-day tasks in our house are not strictly assigned as "his job" or "her job". We pitch in and help out with whatever task needs doing. We cooperate. Lean on each other.
Here's another truth. I didn't do everything right as a parent. I'm pretty sure I introduced Gerber's Dutch Apple Dessert too early into my children's diet. I'm absolutely positive I yelled at my children just like my parents yelled at me, right up until the day that a true friend gently corrected me. It took awhile to break the habit of yelling at my kids, but I did it through the guidance and conviction of the Holy Spirit, because....
...here's another truth... I wanted to become a good parent. I wanted something better for my children than I experienced as a child. I read Dr Spock from cover to cover and tried to practice it. YIKES. Sorry. Honestly, I just didn't know any better. I didn't know how to be a good parent, but I wanted to learn.
Which leads to a deeper question. Why was crummy Dr Spock the only parenting book I was ever given? Answer: there wasn't a mentor-figure in my life in those years. I had a mom and a mother-in-law who might have provided coaching and mentoring. But at the time, one wasn't ready for the grandmother thing and the other's input came across as heckling more than mentoring.
One final thought. I really am sorry I started off badly. And it hurts my heart to think I shorted my children. But is it appropriate to park there and mope and mourn? Or is it appropriate to "forget those things which are behind and press toward the mark"? Honestly, that's what I've been trying to do, but it's hard when The Accuser dredges up the past over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over.... well you get it.
Twenty-five years ago I was following the drumbeat of the world. But God began to draw me back to Him through my children. My desire to be a good Mom drove me back to church, back to the Bible, back to a relationship with Jesus Christ. If you compared a typical day of my life 25 years ago with a typical day of my life now, you would see a big difference. The Lord has accomplished much change in my life so far, and has much more to do.
The truth of the matter is that both Alton and I got off to a poor start as parents. The Lord used trials to draw us back to Him, and we began to change little by little. We both honestly regret our poor start, and all the mistakes we made along the way. But are those mistakes unforgivable? Unpardonable? Is there any evidence that we "pressed on toward the mark?"
Just the other day, a man said, "You have two fine sons. You must be proud of them." I simply said, "Yes, I am." I could've qualified my remark with, "Well, they haven't been perfect sons." Which is true. They haven't been perfect. But why dredge up the muck of the trouble we had with them in the past? They are becoming truly fine men. Period. I don't think of them in terms of the trouble they caused me through the years; I don't harbor ill will toward them. I think of them in terms of the people they are today. My memories and wounds from the former times are bound up and healed by forgiveness and grace.
I wonder, will there come a time when I get to live among people who are done dredging up the muck of the past? Will I ever get to dock at the shores of reconciliation, forgiveness and grace? Will I ever be known as the person I am today rather than the wretched soul I was before God transformed my life?
