I sit in my family’s living room, in a comfy armchair. I am surrounded by my family–my father, my mother, my brother, my two sisters.
Dad is reading the Lord of the Rings to us. The words weave in and out of my consciousness as I ponder my home.
My youngest sister’s hair is golden–when you hold the strands up to the light, they glimmer and shine as if they were, in fact, spun from gold. She often smiles and lives exuberantly. She is not always thoughtful or considerate, but she is never malicious. She scatters her gold like flower petals, like rain, letting it fall on all around her. She is like the sunshine, beautiful, light, and airy.
My other sister is different–quiet, deep. She is like a mine. You have to dig deep and make effort to find the gold, but it is there, precious and abundant, for those who take the trouble to look. And there are moments when the light hits her just right and she shines.
My brother is intentional. He gives away his treasure freely and thoughtfully, pondering each gift and each recipient. He delights in orderly beauty. He is like a river, abundant and ever-flowing, but only ever flowing in the river bed.
The tapestry of our family is many-colored and ever-growing, but if you look closely as it grows, you see the strands of gold weaving in and out of our lives. In some places, they shine and reveal themselves, but other times they give a shine to seemingly ordinary events.
My friend put it this way: “Y’all aren’t perfect, but you actively pursue holiness. Together.”
Those strands of gold are our pursuit of holiness. And no, we aren’t perfect, but God is making us better.
And we are learning together.