More Loved Than I Knew

Underestimating the Power of Ordinary Love

Recently, I have written a lot about trauma and grief, woundedness and loss. As I’ve reflected on those experiences, I’ve also found myself wondering: How did I develop resilience in the face of such a difficult childhood?

This weekend, while talking with my cousins, I began to see part of the answer. We talked about the people who loved us.

Although I wasn’t aware of it at the time, God was caring for me long before I knew Him.

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.” (Psalm 68:5)

God often cares for hurting children through ordinary people. It may be a teacher, a coach, a neighbor, a grandparent, or someone at church.

I always knew my sister, nine years older than me, loved me and was there for me. What I didn’t fully appreciate was how God was quietly weaving a whole community of caring people into my life. Looking back, I can see how those relationships became part of the resilience He was building in me.
What I couldn’t see then, but what I see now: His fingerprints were everywhere.

Extended Family

I was blessed this weekend to spend time with my sister and cousins. And though we did talk about loss, we talked even more about the people who loved us. The people who kept us close, nurtured us, and spoke life into us.

Though my father died when I was a baby, his mother, step-father, sister, and brother-in-law made sure I stayed well-connected to his side of the family.

They were not perfect people, but compared to the chaos I experienced after my mom remarried, they were a breath of life.

They didn’t speak love. They showed it.

They included me in their everyday lives.

I belonged there.

My grandma, Nana, let me ride my tricycle through her house at the Oregon coast and let me have half a candy bar with lunch. At some point she moved to Maui and I saw her less.

My aunt and uncle had me stay during school breaks and summers. Just being with them was a respite for me. We even traveled to Maui together to visit Nana.

Aunt Jane took me in as her own when I was with her. Even after her own children were grown and having children of their own, I was still welcomed into the family circle. Sometimes I helped care for the babies. She was simply glad to have me there.

This weekend, one of my cousins helped me understand something I had never fully seen before. Aunt Jane had lost her brother, my father, when he died unexpectedly at a young age. She made sure his little girl stayed close.

Uncle Leonard was something. He had a gruff exterior but a heart of gold. He was a very hard-working man and showed his love by providing for his family. He was generous too.

Shortly after Pat and I lost our first baby through miscarriage, we traveled to Maui to visit family. During the trip, Leonard casually asked Pat how much the airfare had cost. We didn’t think much of it. After we returned home, a check appeared in the mail for the full amount.

We never asked for it.

That was just Leonard.

I know it was not always easy to be his child, and I think he mellowed as he aged, especially with me and his grandchildren. But I never doubted that he loved his family.

The love they showed me by including me gave me stability and helped build resilience through troubled times.

I didn’t need to hear, “I love you.”

I knew it in my bones.

The Crew

God surrounded me with another circle of supporters — the florist and greenhouse crew. My step-father owned the flower shop that was connected to our house and the four huge greenhouses that were behind it.

Most of the employees were loyal and stayed a long time. Since I entered the household at 1-year-old, I grew up among them and became a sort of shop mascot.

Dorothy was the Flower Shop Manager, and she was like a second mother to me.

 She never married.

 Somehow, I became hers.

She made Halloween costumes for me and proudly displayed my “great works” of childhood art on her apartment door.

We adored each other.

Mrs. Kuni became Grandma Kuni and watched me when my parents went on vacation. Her husband would walk around with silver dollars clicking in his pocket. I still have one of Grandma Kuni’s special bells displayed on my shelf.

I followed the greenhouse crew around, stayed up late on holidays and during poinsettia planting season.

I used to run flower deliveries for hours with Rod in the delivery van while singing top-40s hits at the top of our voices. He was like a fun uncle that let me tag along.

And why did I follow them around and spend so much time with them?

Children have a way of finding safe harbors.

I was drawn to the people who made me feel welcome, valued, and safe. They weren’t related to me, but they became family all the same.

Steady People

Only now do I realize these people were doing something much more important than simply being kind.

Research now confirms what many of us have noticed: children often become more resilient when stable, caring adults take an interest in their lives.

Nana, Aunt Jane, Uncle Leonard, Dorothy, Grandma Kuni, Rod, and others gave me what I desperately needed but couldn’t yet put into words. By being there, they offered me steadiness, encouragement, and a sense of belonging.

This is why a child may gravitate toward school, church, sports, or music. Often it isn’t the activity itself that draws them. Sometimes they find a teacher, coach, pastor, mentor, neighbor, or family friend who makes them feel welcome, valued, and safe.

A caring adult cannot remove every hardship from a child’s life, but they can help that child know they are seen, loved, and not alone.

More than Loss

For years I focused on what I lost. Recently I have begun to notice what God provided. Not replacements. Not perfect people. But faithful people who helped carry me through difficult seasons.

That little girl on the porch was seeing only one moment in her story. The memory froze there, but life did not. She did not see how many people God had already placed around her.

The memory was stuck in time.

The little girl was loved.

God did not replace my father. But He proved Himself a Father to the fatherless by surrounding me with people who loved me well.

Perhaps, as you look back over your own story, you will discover the same thing.

The people may not have been perfect. They may never have said the words. But they showed up.

And through their ordinary faithfulness, God was showing up too.

Did someone come to mind who was there for you? Please feel free to share your thoughts. Comments are moderated for safety and respect, but I’ll read each one.