A Church Family is a Beautiful Gift

I know, I know . . . every church out there welcoming you home and calling you family can give the ick. It feels disingenuous. But sometimes, after some time, you settle into a place where it really does feel like home. And those strangers you met really do become your family.

We tend to call these relationships our “chosen family.” As if there was a choice. As if I could’ve orchestrated the arrangement of such a diverse and eclectic group of people all on my own. I would not have encountered a lot of these women out in the wild. Most wouldn’t have been in school with me, and if I ran into them at the park or the grocery store, we wouldn’t necessarily have struck up a conversation.

No, I didn’t choose these women I’m surrounded by. God did. We range in age, culture, and lifestyle. Some of us have things in common, and some of us couldn’t be more different. But we’re a family designed by God. He gave us to each other as a good and gracious gift, and there’s nothing more genuine than that.

We laugh together. We watch each other’s kids. We spend birthdays and special occasions together. We text all day long, and it still isn’t enough. We have countless inside jokes. We know funny stories about each other’s husbands and drama about our extended families. We cook for and with each other. We carry our griefs together. We pray together all of the time. We remind each other of who we are when we can’t seem to remember on our own. That’s a sisterhood. That’s a family.

I didn’t choose to have these women in my life, just like I didn’t pick my biological sister. Trust me, sometimes we all drive each other crazy like my real sister and I do. Sometimes, I get annoyed, or I get my feelings hurt. I don’t find myself worrying that everyone is going to get mad and abandon me. That’s a real family, fastened together with real love. God created this whole thing, for His purpose. And I am grateful.