Oh, my goodness. Say the word family and the emotions evoked run the gamut. Wonderful! Traumatic. Memorable. Tear producing. You name it. What family was created to be and what living in a broken world looks like, are polar opposites. The experiences each one of us has is as different as we are. 

I am a baby boomer. Yep. I’m old and I am actually okay with that fact. The space between my ears has never been better and I will spare you my thoughts regarding the rest!

I grew up in an era when divorce was not commonplace or understood. In the early 70’s I became a classic child of divorce. No need to go into details, other than I fit in even less than I already did. I was the youngest of three, and the only one living at home. Ouch. What I perceived was from the cloudy lens of adolescence. What we perceive as children isn’t necessarily reality. Our development involves many different aspects of life, and there isn’t anything easy or straightforward.

I was hurting and felt abandoned by my Dad and two older siblings. Home had not been a place of feeling safe and nurtured. My mom did a remarkable job as a single mom raising her confused middle school baby. She did the best she could with her experience and resources.

My Dad’s family had an ugly history of shattered relationships and the pattern of cutting off anyone who disagreed with or challenged the matriarch. My Dad and grandmother did not speak with one another for decades. The dysfunction trickled into the next generation and my brother and dad did not reconcile prior to their deaths.

How tragic. Sadly, the waves of pain radiated out into my young, already wounded psyche. No blaming here. God healed and restored that part of me decades ago. I am eternally grateful for the healing.

I would love to be able to say that the brokenness stopped there. But I won’t. The truth is this. The sibling rivalry and fractures did not end once God healed my heart. No…the beat goes on. Our children have their own stories of perceiving and feeling slighted and “less than”.

Family, whether it be family of origin or the family of faith, is made up of flawed, broken people. We have been hurt, misunderstood and criticized. We have hurt and betrayed others.

In Genesis 37, the story of a family echoes through the ages. Jacob had 12 sons. The baby, Joseph, was the favored child. His brothers hated and resented him. He fueled the fires of resentment by telling them of the dream he had. Basically, they would all bow down to him. Not the best way to build bridges! The brothers plotted how to kill him, and eventually sold him into slavery. To cover up their betrayal, they lied to their Dad. Jacob was wrong to openly favor this son, and what the brothers did was cruel.

One thing leads to another. They were envious of this baby brother and rather than working things through, they got rid of him. The consequences remained. They lived each day carrying the guilt of what they had done. They could not escape it or right the wrong. They had no idea of where Joseph was. They didn’t  know if he were dead or alive. No internet searches to track him down, had they wanted to. 

I don’t know your story, but I know this. There is nothing God cannot heal, although the process may not look at all like we think it could or should. When we give our family brokenness to God, he will take the shattered pieces of the past and create a beautiful reflection of Him. 

Gather the broken pieces of family, take the steps that lead to release and forgiveness and watch to see what God will do.