Saturday, I attended a family reunion with members of my dad's side of the family. My dad died in 1982 at the age of 55. When his mom died a few years later, we lost contact with that side of the family. It may be something about aging, but the older I get, the more I desire to reconnect with family members from my past. Saturday was one of those days.
Several family members, including my sister, have been doing a lot of research on our ancestral lineage. You know the saying, "Be careful what you seek because you might not like what you find." It came up Saturday that our part of the family tree might not be as we thought. If the research was accurate, it would mean that our grandfather had a different father than what we thought. It would also mean that there was a huge part of my background that was now missing. I began to have an identity crisis, because part of my identity had suddenly put in question.
Now, this is in no way a comment or a criticism of adoption. It just means that everything I thought I knew about myself, and especially my grandfather, was called into question.
It was a tough place to be in, but as always, God used it to remind me of something much more important: My identity and my inheritance is found through Jesus Christ.
The other stuff––my family background, where the family came from, what the family experienced throughout the years––is interesting to discover and helps inform me about why my family has morphed into the body that it is. But, that's all it is: interesting. All that really matters in that I'm a part of the body of Christ, a daughter of the King, and destined to spend eternity in heaven with Him.
By Sunday afternoon, my sister had studied the census of 1900, birth dates, and marriage dates, and determined that we really are a part of that family.
By then, I didn't care near as much. Amazing how God uses even the smallest moments to teach us huge lessons!
Margie Williamson
Community Manager
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