Recently I have been blatantly reminded of that fact. The people I share daily life with are the most important thing to me. I am not always so appreciative.
My world crumbled recently. I have no job and won't have one for another week. Without school hogging up my time, I have lapsed into apathy and misery. I should be rejoicing about my freedom, but some days I don't even want to leave my bed. I have let things slide. I no longer look at each day as an adventure, but look at them as times of torment. My mental and emotional states have been emaciated by my own hand. I have let my discipline disappear and my drive for reading the Word and knowing my Maker has left. Not only is it physically painful to rise from my bed each morning, but it is a mental and emotional challenge. I have allowed myself to waller around in my pitiful state of 'poor me'. I pushed everyone away from me and was on the brink of alienating myself from my family, until God began to (once again) draw me back to Himself.
My family, the people I see all day every day, have loved me through this. They have said 'I love you', even when everything I said to them was 'I don't love anyone'. My mother, (oh what a blessed child I am) has stayed up late helping me work through things and talk and cry and be mad. She has graciously allowed me to feel all the emotions I need to. The woman is a super hero. She is what I strive to be like. Dedicated to her children even when she feels hurt by them. My mother has risen every day and come to my room to check on me. She has let me sleep days away and has prodded me (gently) to rise and get outside on other days. She has noticed my growth and progress and encouraged me, and has held me when I relapse. No matter how much I tried to push her away, she was right where I left her. Just waiting for me to come back and let her help me. She is always there to talk me down from my cliff and ease my troubled mind. I have always been able to tell her everything. EVERYTHING. She makes talking to her easy and comfortable. I want to be like that.
My brothers. Those two young wild bulls who make life a wrestling match whenever possible. They have graciously given me space. In their wisdom and maturity, they have chosen to love me even when I hurt them. They are strong men. Men who love their crazy older sister/second mother no matter what. Encouragement.
The sister. The one who has also heard all of my secrets. When I wasn't looking, she acquired the wisdom of a 90 year old woman and speaks with such insight. She speaks truth about every situation. I have always treated her like the older sister, and the older I get the truer that seems to be. She is much older and wiser in her mental state than I am. She thinks clearly about life and always knows how to encourage right living. She has a child-like fascination and love for our Maker and inspires such in my own life. There is a constant joy that radiates from her that is contagious.
Last, my father. A strong, committed, dedicated man. One who wants the very best for each of his children. One who desires excellence. I know he loves me by his care and provision. He is steady and is sure. His biblical knowledge is extensive and he always knows what passage to direct you to when you are struggling.
These 5 people that I live with. They are amazing. They are resilient. They are loving. Our relationships take a lot of flack (because of me recently) and yet, we always come back to the basics of loving each other. They go out of there way to let me know they are here for me. I regret not appreciating them sooner. Not realizing how amazing the people are that I get to do life with. Even in my worst times, they are there. They are what are most important to me.
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