Family.

Something amazing happened a little over three years ago.  I met family.  No, we are not blood family, but I think sometimes genetic families have nothing on those built on the blood of Jesus.   

I was introduced to these people, who are now family, through a connection that we had with someone when we lived in Macon, the first time.  God's hand was all over that connection, and these beautiful people have opened their hearts and their lives and let us be a part of their family. We call, we text. We share our good times and walk together through rough times.  They have us into their home on Christmas eve, as if we are part of their family, to have a delicious meal of appetizers and watch It's a Wonderful Life.  Yes, it helps that they are from the great state of Alabama and love Alabama football as much as I do. :) 

This is the family that when I was sent to bed for 11 weeks of my life, they came into my home and completely renovated the room that would become the nursery. 

She is the one that taught me how to make homemade biscuits.  This is the family that provides my husband with his spiritual father.  Bottom line, they love Jesus and therefore they love us, not because we are worth it or because we are easy to love, simply because they are serious about putting their faith in action.  

   

I love the way they love. With everything they are. And when you're hit with that kind of love and acceptance you are never the same.

I'm not the same.

Today, I am simply grateful for my family.  I am missing living in the same town as my family.  Today, I look forward to the next time I get to see my family.  I am thankful for honest, authentic, open conversation and confrontation with my family.  I am humbled by the way my family loves us with their lives.