Tuesday Testimonies: Learning to See and Love family Like Christ Does

We were standing outside the empty storage unit, my car filled with boxes of bedding and dorm decorations and my mom’s rental car ready to drive the 12 hours home to New Hampshire. I went to hug her goodbye, a moment I had been waiting on apprehensively and restlessly since she welcomed me with a similar hug when I unexpectedly returned home in March due to COVID-19.

It is my third year of college, but it was the first time I cried saying goodbye to my mom since summer camp 11 years ago. Maybe it was because I had an extra two months at home or maybe because of the semester’s uncertainty. More likely, it was because this was the first time in my life that my mom spontaneously asked to pray over me.

In my house, we would only pray if company was over. We would go to church most weekends until I was 5 years old, only on Christmas and Easter until I reached 10 years old, and never after that. It was not that my parents did not like church, it simply was not a priority. 

I love my family – I had a good childhood, and even knew to pray to God from time to time. But we never spoke of Jesus, opened our Bibles or seriously discussed faith in my home. If friends asked, I would tell them that I was a Christian, but I had no idea what those words actually meant.

God pursued me over many years, through the persistent invitation of a friend to attend a youth retreat, then a random invitation to be a Bible summer camp counselor, and over years of personal theological and Biblical questioning and study.  

Eventually I accepted His love, and my world changed. But I began to feel like my life was the reverse of the Matthew 18 parable: I was the one lost sheep, but I did not understand why my new shepherd was not going after the other 99. Every time I grew deeper in my relationship with Him, I wanted to go home and share it with my family. I wanted them to feel the love I felt and the sense of peace that poured into each part of my life, but no one around me shared my joy. Why would God pursue me so fervently yet leave behind those I love? 

I tried the same format with my family that brought me to genuine faith in Christ: I persistently invited them to go to church with me on Sunday, and randomly shared parts of my faith and proof of God’s existence. I wanted so badly for my parents to be spiritual mentors like my friends’ parents and thought I could eventually convince them to adopt that role.

Reflecting on the last few years of my life, I realize that I was missing something crucial. During the years of questioning and discovering my faith, one moment stood out amongst the rest. I was sitting in a crowded gym after a powerful sermon, and I wrestled with God, wondering if He was real and who I was to Him. All I heard back, in the clearest voice I have ever heard, was “I love you” on repeat.

Love. That is who God is. He persists in loving. 

I was persisting in the asking, in the debating, in the fighting with my family. But what I needed to persist in was love. I may be my parent’s child, but we are all brothers and sisters in Christ. In that sense, my parents are my peers, my siblings, in a deeper sense, my brothers and sisters, and I needed to love them in a new way.

Outside that storage unit with my mom, I felt the Holy Spirit in a way I had never before with a member of my family. I realized that moment was one of pure love, and that is how God works. Loving my family well will be what directs them to the love of God.

I am not expecting my family to start sharing my passion for the faith – yet. I am not expecting my family to attend church with me – yet. I am not expecting my parents to act like spiritual leaders to me – yet. 

But my mom was moved to pray for me. 

And I am expectant to see how the Holy Spirit moves through my intense love for my family and His deeper love for His children.

Jacqueline Hale is a Feature Editor. Follow her on Twitter at @HaleJacquelineR.