Family…and God’s grace

What is it about family that can either encourage the heck out of you or make you want to change your DNA and deny all connection with them?

I can never run for office.  I have a convicted felon, a child abuser, many conspiracy theorists, and what else, I have yet to discover, in my family line.  And those are the people that are alive.  The horse thief who was hanged in the late 1800’s is my favorite relative.  Something so sepia about it.

This weekend my sister, her three kids and I are piling into my Saturn to visit my Oma for her 80th birthday.  We’re having a surprise party.  (Hope she doesn’t read my blog.  It will be a surprise no longer.)  I am looking forward to seeing the saner side of my family…my father’s side.  Though…there are skeletons buried so deeply in that side of the family that I don’t know that they will be discovered this side of eternity. 

Somehow, God has brought me through all of this craziness, with most of my wits about me.  If there were a picture of God’s grace in Webster’s Dictionary, it would probably feature me.  God has watched me do some horrible things.  God knows every thought that goes through my head.  And yet, He still loves me.  He is still willing to use me.  He has yet to evaporate my cells.

My life is not perfect.  Heck, if you’ve read my blog more than once, you know that.  But I know that God is working through the circumstance.  I can see how God is answering prayers that I’ve not had the courage to pray. 

Something interesting is stirring.  I can’t give you the details just yet.  But by the end of next week, you’ll probably know what I know.

For now, adieu.

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