Every now and then, I run into someone or get an email from someone who kindly comments about this blog. I generally assume that my audience is composed of our families, a few friends, and those just got stuck here by adding DRRF to their Google Reader. So, when I meet someone who is reading along on our journey, that I didn’t expect to be, it takes me aback and makes me think. (Granted, this has happened approximately twice…but still, it makes me think. Have I mentioned that I am occasionally slightly over-analytical?)
This blog is primarily for documenting our family memories. But let’s be real. This is the world-wide-web. If I simply wanted to document our story, I would do so in a journal or scrapbook, tucked in attic boxes for our grandchildren to discover someday. Because I choose to document our memories here must mean there is a piece of us that I want to share.
BUT. Only a piece.
It’s a little like inviting guests to your home. You clean, you prepare, you bring out the best. Its not that you are lying about the “junk” that you store away in closets, you are just determining the impression that you make. You hang pictures on the wall of favorite family vacations, of everyone looking at the camera smiling, of significant moments in your lives. Its not that these are ALL of your family history, just the pieces you want to share. You lecture everyone to be on their best behavior, tell funny stories about your children, and be sure to hold your spouse’s hand during the before dinner prayer. All of those things are true and sincere, but it is not as if that is the way our family ALWAYS behaves.
I hope the guests of our blog know the same to be true. I post about the funny things our kids do, the fun activities I do with them, how much I love RRL, and about our faith that the Lord is carrying us along this journey. All of those things are so very true. But be reminded that these are only pieces of our story.
When you visit these pages, I am the narrator of the story. I get to choose what we share and in turn, how our family is portrayed.
You won’t read much about the times I get frustrated with those same adorable children. I don’t write about the days I regret being too busy with laundry, dishes, and diapers to stop and read stories when requested. If I get to choose, you’ll likely not hear about the argument I had with that very same husband I adore. I may share about difficult days, but maybe not about the days that make it harder to see God at work or the days I simply choose not to listen to Him. I may share about our journey and the blessing it is, but please know there are also days I wish I could write the story differently.
But though you don’t read those pieces here, those pieces happen in our lives. This blog is only a piece of the story.
The hard times are molding us and shaping us to enjoy the good times all-the-more, so I don’t want to dismiss them. We learn from them and therefore value them. We do share about those times, too, with those from whom we seek counsel or that we think can relate. When it’s appropriate, we even talk to our children about the values of asking for help, admitting your mistakes, and forgiving others.
We have so much more of a story to tell, but we are mindful that this is the world wide web.
Here I have made the choice to narrate the story in such a way to glorify my God, honor my husband, and brag about my children. Because these are the things we are CHOOSING to remember and choosing to share. Along the way, just as we invite guests into our home, we hope others feel more than welcome here to share a piece of our family journey.
But when you visit our blog, remember. Remember that just like when you visit my home and spy a hidden dust bunny, a closet crammed too full, or (gasp) a sink full of dishes, we are not picture perfect. We just get to choose the pictures.
That said, WELCOME, GUESTS. Stay awhile. Let’s visit. And as I get to know you better, maybe I’ll open a closet or two.
ABL
*The “perfect” family picture above has been my facebook profile picture since Easter. The other pictures, taken minutes before, tell the real story about the occasional sibling rivalry, the background lecture, the frustrated mom…our “perfect” family.
Like this:
Like Loading...