It is who we are.
It is more than lines and genes, more than long-aged traditions and fading photographs, more than mothers, fathers, siblings, and more than a name. It is so much more.
It is amazing to me how families grow. We marry, we have children, our siblings marry, we adopt, we reunite with an adopted member and her adoptive family. We grow, grow, grow. They say that blood is thicker than water, but how can that be, when we choose our own spouses? When we choose to bind ourselves to another family line?
It is made clear to me again that love is not simply an emotion. It is not merely that affability, that ease of being comfortable around people we know. It is a choice. We choose who we will love–whether we are related biologically or not.
It must be that the greatest love is freely chosen, freely given, and freely received.
And so we gathered–two families, coming together through the bond of marriage–and we simply knew. There was no question we would become family. There was no question we would love. We just did. And somehow, God–in His infinite wisdom–brought together personalities, interests, skills, and histories that were so diverse, yet they shone awkward beauty, like a young orchestra playing together for the first time.
It is the miracle of another person, without intent or effort, bringing out pieces of our own character and being that we maybe had forgotten–or had never known. It is that subtle dissonance–the tension (and resolution) of harmony whereby each instrument’s strength is exalted, and its weakness is supported by another’s strength. It is by others that we come to know ourselves; and it is by us that others come to know themselves.
It is who we are, and who we are becoming.