Putting Up My Hand

My world religions class always leads to raise interesting points in my life. The last class I was in led to an interesting thought in my life. My professor said that "If you had a choice, would you put up your hand to be a part of the human race?" With all the pain, all the suffering, all the loss, would you really choose to be a part of all of that?

My answer to that is very easy. I would absolutely put up my hand. And here are my reasons why.

Despite the fact that life is full of suffering and pain, that is not all the life is full. Life is full of rain, but also rainbows. There is loss, but for that to happen, there is also gain. There is the gain of friendships, family and many amazing people who cross our lives. There the most amazing moments of first kisses, surprise meetings, bringing new life into the world.

There are incredibly hard moments in life. When you lose the one that you love, you feel that your world has shattered into so many pieces. When you lose the one who you love, that means you would have found that one that you could love. Finding one that you can love is one of the greatest gifts in the entire world. In order to lose something, you have to have found something. Finding something is an incredible gift and something to be treasured.

Being a part of the human race is something that is hard. There are days when it truly sucks. But there are days when it the most incredible thing in the world. There will be pain and suffering, but there will also be joy and redemption. So if someone were to ask me if I would put my hand up to be a part of the human race, this is my answer. Absolutely. I would not want to miss any of this for a million dollars.

Seeking An Excuse

I am not one for great adventures. I have never really been one for great adventures. I am the only who is envious of those who go off and have great adventures. My adventures in life have been most often occurred through turning the pages of my books in a comfortable corner chair.

The first summer I was at work, most of the assistants I worked with were heading off to begin new chapters of their lives. They had plans to go off to more foreign countries and have great adventures in places that they didn't necessarily speak the language, weren't sure where they were going to stay and didn't know what kind of work they would really be doing. At that point, I was really envious of what they had the opportunity to do. I had just finished my first year of university and I knew that I had to finish another three years before I had the same opportunity.

Now, because of some good advice from people who love me a lot, I am finishing my third year of my degree. I am beginning to realize that I am faced with the chance to have my adventure. I could take off the year after I finish my degree and do something that I want to do. Or I could stay here, do something I sort of want to do, but not have the adventure I have really wanted to have.

I read somewhere once that logic is just an excuse for wallflowers. I've never been one for logic, but I have to admit that I am resorting to my wallflower persona. To not go off to another country, far away from the people that I love, would be easy. It would be simple and it wouldn't terrify me down the depths of my being.

I had an excuse for not leaving. The only problem is that my excuse for not having my grand adventure doesn't want to be my excuse. My excuse wants me to go and have my adventure so that I will never regret not taking the chance. I might need to find another excuse.

The reality is that I have been a wallflower for all of my life. I have been comfortable in my corner chair with my book that feels heavy with the weight of adventure contained within its pages. Maybe, for the first time in my life, I will have to find my adventure outside of the pages that I am so comfortable turning. Because the more I seek for an excuse, the more I find that only one I can find is that I am scared and that excuse is simply not good enough.

Family Portraits

I have a picture that I love a lot. I've left it at home right now because it currently makes me sad. It's a family portrait from a few years ago. Many years ago actually. Two of my cousins weren't born yet, and I still had long hair. There have been faces that have disappeared from the picture because of circumstances entirely out of my, or anyone's, control. My uncle has passed away, and another one has left for his own reasons. There have also been faces added to the portrait. Two smiling beautiful children who live far to far away from me for me to visit all the time.

The best thing about the portrait is not what is in the portrait exactly. The fact that the portrait exists at all shows the everyone was able to be in the same room without attempting to kill each other. It shows that there are some things stronger than the petty fights and the constant disagreements between people who are related by genetics and some who are only related because of the people they love.

There are such strong things that bind families together. There is the strength of blood ties, that even when we don't like our families, we still love them. The stronger parts of our families are the ones that we choose.

There is a group in my family that we call the Outlaws. These are the members of the family who have all chosen to be a part of this crazy group we call family simply because they love each other. To create a short explanation, those included in this group are my mother, my aunt and it used to include my two uncles. These are those who have married into my father's family. They bond in ways that can happen only from being around pure insanity on a regular basis. They are a close group despite the fact that none of them are related by a genetic code, other than the one the proves they are all part of human race.

The family portrait I have is not perfect. There have been major changes over the past years. I am not the same person I was then. The important part of hanging onto the portrait is not that the faces haven't changed. They have. We have all changed. The important thing is that we are still a family. Despite all of our differences, we are still family.

Forming Family

It is almost Easter and that means I get to start battening down the hatches and getting ready for the great family dinner that occurs around this time of year. The great thing about family is that we don't always have to get along and we don't even always have to like each other. The one thing we will always do though, is love each other. That is the greatest part of family.

Forming a family is something that always takes time to do. It doesn't happen over night. It doesn't always even happen simply because of genetics. In fact, there are many cases in which it doesn't happen at all even with the force of genetics on the side of the family. Family is such a fragile thing. It comes together with such magic and can't be held together with glue or string or even sheer force of will. It is held together with love, compassion and trust.

The aspect that seems to hold my family together most is the sheer insanity of it all. I usually say that craziness is genetic in my family and it probably is. It might even be adopted by those who chose to willingly become a part of it. This year, for the first time in my life, I am taking a person who is the best part of my life to a family Easter dinner. I know that he will be fine. I'm just worried that I might not be.

There has never been anyone who really wanted to be a major part of my life. Now that there is someone, I'm scared because I've never felt like that before. I've never actively wanted someone to be a part of my family.

All the families I have become a part of in my life are simply because I was in the right place at the right time with an open enough heart to care. Where I work over the summer has become more family than I ever really expected. There are those who I attend school with who have become the greatest form of support for me. I never really expected any of this to happen. These people have simply become my family because I love easily.

Something my mother said over my Christmas holidays had me thinking about the day when I will form my own family. It will start with the partner I choose for my life, the people who he calls family, and then those who we will bring into our family. God willing, one day there will be our children to add to that number. Within that group we will form our own traditions, plans and hopes. We will become a family.

I may not be able to hold my family together with glue or string or sheer force of will, but I know that I will be able to form a family with love, compassion and trust and I can pray that that will be enough.

Loving Enough to Doubt

We are coming up on Easter very quickly now. This year has the earliest date of Easter that can exist for the next 160 years or so. I have to admit that the rush of it all is causing me to lose my breath.

The one nice thing about Easter coming so quickly is that I get to hear one of my favorite passages from the gospel read aloud again. It is the story of doubting Thomas.

Over the past centuries, Thomas has gotten a fairly harsh reputation. Many people feel because Thomas wanted to see Christ before he would believe that he had no faith. I don't agree though.

Thomas had faith. Thomas had faith enough to leave everything in order to follow Jesus. Thomas was able to see the true nature and purpose of Jesus' life. Thomas' perceived lack of faith did not stop him from believing. He wanted to believe. It was his grief that overruled his faith for a brief time and he demanded proof.

Whenever we lose someone we love in any way, we desperately don't want them to be gone. Even when out heads know the reality, our hearts don't want to accept it. Every whisper, every sideways glance, every person who passes us in the street carries with it the person we have lost and our hearts hurt. We can know the reality of losing the one we love in our heads, but our hearts will never know it.

When Thomas does not fully believe what the other disciples are telling him, it does not mean that he does not want to believe. He wants to believe more than anything. His heart leaps with joy and excitement at the possibility that his teacher, leader and friend might still be alive. But what happens when you fully believe in something only to find out it isn't true?

Thomas has just lost someone he loved dearly. He has been mourning for days and fearing persecution from the Roman authorities. He wants the other disciples to be right, but he can't survive them being wrong. Thomas' heart is not closed or hardened. Rather it is open and bleeding with grief. Thomas does not ask for proof because he has no faith in Jesus. He asks because he has no faith in his own strength.

It takes a strong heart to grieve. It takes a stronger heart to believe in something that will only break your heart again. Perhaps Thomas didn't feel as though his was strong enough. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was.