Are You My Mother?
Training is over. It’s 1 PM and a quarter of my team is left. “Dare you to move,” sings Adam, and we are. We’re moving now, strong and fast; we’re going home. Ten days ago, we were just here, meeting for the first time. As strangers, we eyed each other, wanting to be family, but unsure how that would happen between people from a dozen different states, 70 different cities or towns, 88 different families, etcetera etcetera.
Family. How that concept has changed in the last 50 years. Would our grandparents consider their travel buddies family, even if they were travelling, as we are, with them for 11 months?
And now, 10 days later, after we have bonded, after we have committed to each other, after we have gone through hell and heaven on earth with each other, now that we consider ourselves a new family, will our grandparents be shocked, or find us incredibly naive?
I would not blame them, just as I do not blame those who came into the house to tell Jesus his mother and brothers were outside, that they were worried he’d become some kind of crazy person. Imagine everyone’s shock when it seemed like he publicly disowned them. He said, “Who are my mother and brothers? You all are! Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.”
