I went home to see my family this past weekend. 

It was only the second year that I’ve been home for Christmas in a somewhat normal way. (I was deep in rehab a few years before that). Not that I don’t love to see my entire family when I come back, but a little over 2 years ago, my nephew was born.

Coming back since getting sober has typically proven to be bittersweet and challenging. I’m constantly reminded of the aftermath that my addiction left in its wake, the brunt remnants of which are held mostly in my family. However, knowing that I get to come home and see the most  handsome, sweet, sassy, little brown haired boy makes it infinitely worthwhile.

 Although he’s far too little to know or understand, for me, he represents the hope of a better life and restoration in my family and my relationships with my family. Being able to be a part of his life is something that would have never happened if I would have continued on the destructive path I was on years ago. Seeing his little face, hearing his sweet little voice and giggle, and even witnessing his adorable temper tantrums that only a two year old can throw (adorable meaning “he’s my nephew and can do no wrong”), makes coming home so much sweeter. 

While our family was all together for Christmas, there was a moment after we had opened all the presents, we had eaten and we were all just lounging and talking. I looked over into the entry way and I saw my nephew and my brother (his dad) sitting in the most random spot… in front of the front door. Apparently that’s where my nephew chose to sit and my brother just decided to spend time with him right there. 

I looked over and I watched as my silly little nephew played with a giant teddy bear as he was in his own little toddler world, having no interest in the rest of the festivities, as my brother just watched on with a smile that could only be described as pure joy. My nephew wasn’t doing anything particularly impressive (although to his aunt, his sheer existence is impressive in itself). He didn’t need anything. He was perfectly content with his teddy bear. He sat and talked and babbled to himself as his dad looked on in adoration. 

I sat there and just watched. One, because there is something so special about your big brother becoming a parent that words can’t begin to describe how precious that is to witness. And two, because I felt tears welling up in my eyes and emotion welling up in my heart. When I finally turned to look away so as to not burst into tears in front of my entire family like an unstable, crazy person, I turned my head and saw my dad, sitting right next to me, surrounded by all of his kids, smiling.

We weren’t doing anything particularly impressive.  We didn’t need anything. But he was just enjoying being in the presence of his children. 

I took a mental snapshot of that whole scene and tucked it away. It was one of those moments that just seemed too special to forget. 

Fast forward to the next day, the present. I’m on my third of 4 flights back home, and I decided to look through the many photos I have from our Christmas weekend and I came across the picture of my brother sitting with my nephew. Father and son. 

I took just a few minutes to remember that moment and remembered the following moment with my own father, and I couldn’t help but start welling up with tears again. 

I sat there thinking about all of the small moments that we never even conceptualize because we’re just in our own world, but even still, our Father sits and just smiles over us. Not because we’re doing anything particularly impressive or because we need anything. But because He truly enjoys being in the presence of his children. 

I wrote this mainly for me. So I won’t forget. Because even as I was writing this, I found myself alone in my seat on the airplane, and I was reminded that I’m never really alone. That I have a Father who is eternally present. That even when I’m babbling to myself and oblivious to the world around me, He watches over me always.

That He meets me where I’m at. No matter how random the place I choose to sit may be. And often, it’s not me going out of my way, but always, Him just choosing to sit beside me. 

This wasn’t a moment of profound wisdom, but it was one of profound comfort and profound joy. 

He’s in everything. 

This blog was started out of the love of my mom, continued by the love of my dad, and inspired by the love of my Father, in and through every word.

Sometimes, the sweetest moments with Him are found in the most peculiar and ordinary places, much like my nephew in front of the front door. And much like my nephew, most times, I’m entirely unaware that they’re happening.

As I leave my former home, my past and my family to head back to my new life hundreds of miles away, I sit by myself in my seat on the airplane with music in my ears and gratitude in my heart for the life and restoration that I never thought would happen. I’m reminded that I have a Father who loves me. That wants good things for children and who will fight for us, even when we can’t fight for ourselves. That everything that seems impossible to us is entirely possible for Him.

Going into this new year, I want to do things differently. I’m not focusing on how I can be better, what I can do differently to seem better to those around me and just in general, being better. 

I’ve decided I’m choosing to turn my head to see my Father sitting, watching and being present with me. To just enjoy His presence. Not to try to impress Him. Not to only ask for things from him. But to just be with Him and to be more aware that He’s never absent.

These are my thoughts tonight. ❤️