The Black Sheep

Today I am feeling the pain of being the black sheep of the family.  I think we've all taken our turn at that, right?  Sometimes deservedly, sometimes . . . not.  This would be one of those times that I don't feel as I've deserved this spot.  So what makes me feel this way, then?  I guess you'd need some history of our family on that one . . . 

I am the youngest by 7 and 8 years.  I learned a lot from my older brother and sister about what NOT to do.  Then, they were out of the house and it was just me.  I became a peace maker, I think.  I tried to do what was right.  I brought home (finally) a nice boy I met at church.  I got married.  Had three kids and lived on a farm.  My siblings didn't have it quite that easy, I don't think.  They kind of stumbled through life until very recently.  My brother married my best friend.  My sister passed away last October after battling lung cancer.  I've never really been close to either of my siblings.  But I've always been close to my parents.

This last year has brought several changes to my life.  My youngest graduated high school and started college.  My middle son went into the Army.  And my oldest son got married.  Big changes, huh?  In the middle of all of that, our church went through some very difficult times, which has trickled down into affecting my family.  We all used to go to church together.  My parents, my brother and sister in law and us.  When this difficult time with our church started, it ripped right down the middle of my family.  My brother and sister in law were on one side with my dad, my husband and I were on the other side with our church.  My mom has stayed in the middle, as she says.  We don't attend church together any more.  We don't even talk about church.  And I've even been referred to as a traitor because I side with my church, which has hurt me very deeply.

I feel that because I have taken a stand, I am on the outside of my family looking in.  I've never been here before.  And it's really not a fun place to be, honestly.  My mom was so worried about my sister's death tearing apart our family.  I think she's worried about the wrong thing.  She says she won't let it happen, but it has.  I don't think my dad even wants to talk to me.  I am pretty sure that my brother thinks I'm nothing but a 12 year old who doesn't know what's going on.  And I don't believe that I have the respect of either of them.  

It would be so easy for me to cave in.  But I've always said that I'm the non-conformist of the group, so I won't.  I believe that I am where God wants me to be.  No matter how hard it is, no matter how much it hurts, I believe that God wants me right where I am.  Thankfully, He has given me some wonderful boys as sons who support me.  He has given me the world's best husband who holds me up and keeps me grounded and is willing to go to any length to protect me.  And He has given me some pretty amazing friends who have also stepped up to support me.  I know I am not the black sheep in God's family.  And thank God for that!