We all need a small group of people who will echo God’s love for us and His belief in us.

In an ideal universe, these are the people closest to us, our immediate families.

But this is not the case for so many people.

The wounds so many people carry are not from the opinions of strangers

but from the opinions of the people they love.

Savor~ by Shauna Niequist

I read these words this morning knowing I have what everyone wants and needs and so few experience— a loving, affirming family who actually like each other.

I cry mama-tears as I remember the years and years of hoping for this, despairing that my children would ever get along, that maybe this ideal is unrealistic, impossible. How I wondered if they would grow up to hate me for all those broken edges that poked and hurt and sometimes (oh how I wish it wasn’t true!) – wounded.

The truth is, ours is not and never was the Ideal Family.

We are too willful, too wordy, too opinionated to avoid hurting each other.  But somehow the Spirit of God heard those not-possible prayers from all those years and did something impossible.

He created a family of us, for us, in spite of us.

And tomorrow my family will begin gathering in Southern California for a week of being us. Camp Comer officially begins Monday at Disneyland. Fifteen of us: Pops, John Mark, Tam, Beks, Steve, Beets, Brook, Matt-man, Simo along with the 5 Grands: Judester, Mo-man, Sunday-Love, Dukester, and baby Scar.

And me.

I’ll be there grinning, taking terrible pictures and being teased for it, heart so full I won’t know whether to laugh at the impossibility of us as we are or weep because of the impossibility of what we have become.

We are a family.

We belong, every one of us— those born into us and those married into us. We will be there for each other in times that include Disneyland and in times of tragedy or shame or loss or failure. We, better than anyone else, know each other’s worth. And each other’s less-than’s.

There is something incredibly safe about being all-together.

As if we are our own small democracy, a tribe of people who will defend each other’s well-being at all costs.

When, just this last week, we got the bad news about 5 year old Duke’s severe hearing loss in one ear, his need to get fitted for a hearing aid before he starts school this fall, the email thread thrummed with our collective grief— and with hope as well. That watching Mom go deaf has taken some of the terror out of what may lie ahead for this boy we all know has worlds to conquer. And who knows who else in our clan.

In the front pages of John Mark’s book is a real-deal endorsement from his little brother, written a year or so before John Mark stood in front of Matt and his bride to laugh and tease and preach just a little hell fire and brimstone at his wedding before declaring Matthew and Simona husband and wife.

All week Elizabeth will love us by cooking. Beks will bring books and stories, Steve will excite us about design, Simo will inspire us with her gentle elegance, Brook will have us laughing, Tam will understand, Matt will bring joy and balance, John Mark will get us thinking about things we didn’t know mattered, and Pops— he will make it all work.

And me? I will be filling up with this “small group of people who echo God’s love for us and His belief in us”.

I can’t help but think of all the young parents who are right in the thick of the part that feels impossible.

Moms who will get up this morning to another day of the same, wondering if all this work is worth it. Dads who had no idea how hard all this would be. May I just give you a peek into your future?

Fathers, don’t run away.

You stand to lose so much more than you can comprehend. Be faithful, be present, be loving, say loving things. Apologize when you blow it. Get help when you need it. Love on your wife like your future depends on it. Because it does.

Mothers, don’t be mean.

Be friendly to that man of yours even when you’re overwhelmed and think he could be, should be better. Love on those children even when you’ve reached your limit. Apologize when you blow it so they grow up knowing your frustration wasn’t their fault— because it isn’t. And please, watch your words.

Because someday, by God’s grace and a miracle or two, you will be planning your own version of Camp Comer.

And the fun starts now.

From an overflowing heart,

Diane

P.S. Do you have hopes for your family? Can you tell us?

But you are

a chosen people,

a royal priesthood,

a holy nation,

God’s special possession,

That you may declare the praises of Him who called you out of darkness

into His wonderful light.

I Peter 2v9

I am just now emerging from that fog called jet lag. We arrived home from Albania in the wee hours of last Tuesday filled to the brim with thanksgiving for what God did in our midst.

Phil and I had been invited to come to Albania to teach the Intentional Parents: raising passionate Jesus followers conference to a group of leaders who would determine if our material would effectively cross the barriers of culture, making it applicable to the Church in Albania.

On the last night of the conference, one of the leaders who invited us asked people to come to the front and tell us how our teaching had impacted their lives.

We listened in awe, humbled and energized by their words. What we heard made all the work of preparation and study and speaking through translators and jet lag and fatigue… worth it.

Over and over we saw mothers and fathers who caught the vision of intentionally passing on their faith to the next generation.

Parents who now see their children as the hope for Albania- and as bearers of the Gospel to a side of the world that needs Jesus desperately.

Albania is a nominally Muslim country with open doors and friendly relations with nations that are closed to most westerners. Turkey loves Albanians, Syria welcomes them with open arms. They have the support and sympathy of nearly every Muslim country in the world— countries closed to Americans and most Europeans.

Because of that, we realized together that-

If this generation of Jesus following Albanian parents

make disciples of their own children,

they can quite possibly change our world!

Which is why I am already looking forward to going back next year. Their plan is to have us come back with a team (more about that later) and put on the Intentional Parents conference in the capital, Tirana, and then for a gathering of churches in southern in Albania.

On the long flight home, all I could think about was this idea of God giving us dreams that are too big for us.

How…

He takes our barely there dreams—

the ones we hardly dare voice out loud,

the dreams we know we don’t have what it takes to do—

and He infuses us with more than we are, and does more than we dare dream.

Why aren’t we talking about this every day of our lives?

This great thing, this magnificent work of God… in us and thru us and for us and to us.

I have absolutely loved hearing about your dreams. Not one of them has sounded outlandishly impossible to me… and yet so many of you are just like me… sort of apologetic about the dreams you harbor.

Why is that?

I think it’s because we are afraid: of failure, of mediocrity, of standing out from the crowd, of looking foolish, of our not-enoughness.

We are afraid because we think these God-inspired sparks of compelling desire are our own responsibility… and we know we are not up for the task.

Look at me: A shy introvert who quakes at the very thought of people turning to look at me. A back row kind of girl. Super serious and introverted, born without a funny bone, who rarely grasps the punch line of a joke. Who doesn’t actually like to travel. And on top of all that? Deaf.

That woman— the me that I am in real life— went to Albania, spoke in front of a room full of leaders… who laughed at my unplanned jokes… and learned from my raw stories.

If I can dream, just think what God might do with you?

From a heart still tired but immensely satisfied,

Diane

P.S. Okay, please, I am craving a few more honest, hope-filled possibilities of how you dare dream God may use you and your story. 

Your courage just  might light a fire of desire in those of us who are held back by fears.