I’ve just spent the weekend with 19 of my favorite people in the whole world - my husband, our children and their spouses, and our 10 grandchildren. We stayed together in our mountain house, playing games, watching movies, going river tubing, eating lots of good food, riding bikes, and making campfires. It was a dream weekend, and I know it is something many people would love to enjoy. I understand what a privilege this is. I am grateful for every minute we spend together, and I always try to capture a big family photo. There are so many of us, and each family unit has an incredibly busy schedule; if we can make this happen once per year, that feels like a giant win. This year, Labor Day weekend was the time.

But what the beautiful laughing faces and images of sunny days on the river don’t always communicate are the complicated mix of joy and sorrow, cooperation and revolt. The family photo that gets printed onto a Christmas card doesn’t reveal the screaming 3-year-old who was absolutely DONE posing. Toddlers bite their sisters. Little boys drop heavy cars tied to string from the balcony and hurt their auntie. Teenagers whine about a planned outing. Someone says something critical. Judgments are passed, feelings are hurt. A girl feels left out. Kids won’t share. Babies cry in the middle of the night. Tears well up as we still grieve the loss of a sweet child together.

I had a family member ask once why I didn’t share some of the hard things my kids went through when they were teens. That was before social media, but it could be the same question now: why do we only share/post/write about the good things? I think one huge reason is that we don’t want to expose those struggles that are private to a family; we want to protect the dignity of those we love.

We all must assume the images and stories of families or people we admire are just snapshots of the things they choose to share, the good things they want others to know. The stories of hardship, pain or rebellion are mostly not for public consumption. We must guard against assuming that people we follow on social media are trying to present a false narrative. Perhaps they are just simply putting their best face forward as we all like to do, and protecting the ones they love.

Our family is a beautiful tapestry of love and pain. Everyone made Herculean efforts to make this weekend happen. We all put up with each other’s quirks and opinions for the sake of the unit. We are growing and changing with each passing year, and with the addition of each child. It is sometimes really difficult to love well. We have to overlook offenses and forgive. Often.

A conversation ensued at one point about dividing up our assets upon our passing (similar conversations are happening with our parents, too) and one of our kids jumped in at the beginning and said, “I’m not willing to sacrifice relationship for any amount of money or any thing.” I really appreciate that.

The beauty of an imperfect family (aren’t they all?) is when we can love in spite of and reflect the image of Christ to the world around us. When we can move forward together in kindness, forgiving one another, being tenderhearted toward one another…that’s when we demonstrate to those who don’t know Jesus yet what commitment means, what His love alive in us can do.