The Surprises of Ancestry/Lineage Tracing Through DNA

Scanning my emails two nights ago, I see from Ancestry: New message from-----. The sender (she) said DNA shows that we’re 2^nd cousins, so we must have the same great-grandparents. She says her mother was adopted and would love to meet her birth father. She gives the name of a cousin of mine, one I’m not close with. She says they only have a name, and she believes he is her grandfather.

Gulp! I send her a reply simply saying, “Hi, cousin. Nice to meet you.”

Obviously, we’re related because DNA doesn’t lie, right? But, is my cousin her grandfather? Was this my vault to open? This cousin is a friend on Facebook – in fact, my maternal side of the family has a closed group Facebook page for family members only. We post old pictures, ancestral heritage data, current family events, and such. We had been posting yesterday about an uncle who had a brief first marriage most of us knew nothing about.

I had an “aha” idea. I sent this cousin, who had started the Facebook thread about the uncle, a private message, copying the message from “she” on Ancestry. Yesterday messages flew back and forth between me and my cousin, and me and “she.” By the evening, I was also getting messages from “she’s” mother, who, if the claim is true, would be my cousin’s daughter.

By bedtime me, she, and she’s mother had become Facebook friends. (You get the point – I’m not giving out names). I felt a kinship with the two of them. I was ready to claim them as relatives even if they didn’t come from the loins of my cousin. I didn’t doubt they came from the loins of some family member, but who?

By this morning I find out my cousin has laid claim to being the father and grandfather. My cousin is in his 70’s, so kudos to him for doing the right thing. He’s a nice guy anyway, so it made me happy.

This blog post poses a question. How often will this happen? Especially in an era when it’s easy to find out our ancestry. Spit into a tube, and voila! Another family member – he’s in his 80’s – did his DNA through Ancestry and had a similar experience. Someone contacted him because the database showed a connection. After research, he discovered a sister, who left home for a while as a teenager, had a baby and gave it up for adoption. It was hush-hush, because that’s what they did back then. The secret was no longer a secret, thanks to Ancestry.

I am sure this has happened more than a few times. If you haven’t invested in finding your ethnic background through one of several offering such services, be prepared. It may happen to you. 
And, of course, this is loaded with material for a book.

2015 - My Year in review

We are already several days into the new year of 2016; 2015 has come to an end. Some will say good riddance. Others will look back on 2015 with fond memories. Life, with all its twists and turns, happens. Our experiences are the sum of the all the good and the bad.

So how was 2015 for me? I’m glad you asked. It was a mixture of pleasant and not-so-pleasant happenings. But throughout it all, God was faithful, loving, and compassionate. He always is. A few highlights of my 2015:

In May, my mother-in-law, Shirley, went home to be with Jesus the Thursday before Mother’s Day. She had been ill for a while, but it was still heartbreaking. Her passing would begin an emotional journey for my husband that has still not been resolved. Sometimes we don’t know what wounds and unresolved issues are inside of us until circumstances reveal it.

The Sunday, Mother’s Day, after Shirley’s passing, our grandson, Judah, was born. He is beautiful and sweet-natured. We also had two great-granddaughters born in May and June within weeks of each other: Zoey in Ohio, the fifth child to my Air Force grandson and his Air Force wife. And Zoey in Phoenix, second daughter to my granddaughter and her husband. Two Zoeys make it Zoey-fabulous.

The Monday after Mother’s Day, I drove myself to the ER – my husband was in Prescott with his dad and brothers – with horrible pain in the right side of my forehead and eye that turned out to be shingles. I was admitted to the hospital that night in excruciating pain, and kept heavily sedated for the next several days. There was a possibility I could lose sight in my right eye because of shingles in that eye. Praise God – and that is a sincere, humble gratitude – that I didn’t.

Shirley’s memorial service wasn’t until June and held in beautiful Prescott, Arizona where my in-laws lived. It was a precious tribute to her – she would’ve loved every moment of it. Alas, crises and tragedies bring out the best and worst in people, and both things happened as a result of this memorial service. There are no perfect families. Toxicity resides in the best of people, but hateful cruelty spews from the heart of toxicity in some people. Only God can bring a spirit of love, peace, and forgiveness to hearts.

I attended my first ever ACFW – American Christian Fiction Writers – in September in Dallas, TX. We combined this trip with a visit by my husband, Jeff, and father-in-law, Phil, to family in Grand Prairie and Stephenville. God answered some of my prayers through this conference. I got to see/meet some favorite authors and people in the industry: Francine Rivers, Brandilyn Collins, Deborah Raney, Randy Ingermanson, Steve Laube, Chip MacGregor. I’m sure I’ve left out some names. I made new friendships. It was a treasured time for me.

Motivated by the conference, I had hoped to publish a book by the end of 2015, but it was not to happen. My life and wonderful, but huge family, can be overwhelming at times – especially around the holidays – and this year it seemed intensified. That’s my excuse/reason and I’m sticking to it. * happy face wink wink* But the conference seemed to point out that I should go the indie publishing route, and that is currently where I'm at with my writing.

I entered a contest with FaithWriters in 2015. My novel entry placed in the top 15, but didn't win. I appreciate the wonderful, helpful, and inspiring feedback I got from Deb Porter. She's a master at pointing out flaws and problem areas in your writing in a loving, encouraging manner.

In December, we got another great-granddaughter – a medical miracle baby – Isabelle. We thank God for a perfect, beautiful, healthy baby. Our family does babies very well. And my father-in-law, Phil, moved to Texas. We sure miss him, but will see him during the year.

So overall, it was a blessed year, fraught with some difficulties. My husband is still on a journey to resolve and reconcile some relationships – and because he is, I am also because I'm his wife and helpmate. God is so gentle and loving as He works in our lives. His mercies are new every morning and endure forever. We rest in the assurance that He has all things under control. We are blessed with a wonderful family and friends. 

I am believing God for a blessed and happy year of 2016. For God’s hand can be found in all that we encounter as we journey in our life on Earth. We are part of a destiny that is eternal. 

My Love/Hate Relationship With Christmas: Confessions of a Christmas-holic

It is two days after Christmas and I have been reduced to a drooling, mumbling, pajama-clad couch potato. In December a few years ago, I made a trip to the dermatologist where my daughter, Stephanie, works. I had burning, itching hives covering my neck and chest that felt like a hundred stinging ants.  “Well, looks like you were here last December for the same thing,” said the doctor.  “That’s it! It has been confirmed. I’m allergic to Christmas,” I replied.

I love Jesus. I serve Him as closely and faithfully as I can, but I have a love/hate relationship with Christmas. I love everything about it. I hate the amount of work that it entails. I confess, I am responsible for much of my Christmas to-do list. All those cookies I bake – dozens and dozens – to give to neighbors, family and friends. And my family reproduces like sex-starved rabbits, so my gift list is a continually growing, demanding parasite.

Thank God gift giving is my love language. Otherwise, I would eradicate that leech-list – set fire to it and cackle like the Wicked Witch of the West. Even though I purchase sale items all year long, I find myself scrambling and searching in a psychotic frenzy at the last minute every December. This year I had tons of little boy gifts, but many more little girls than boys in the family. Seriously, though, why can’t a three-month-old baby girl get a set of Hot Wheels as a gift? Who makes these rules anyway? I have a confession: little boys are easier to buy for than little girls, but men are harder to buy for than women. That is my truth, so there!

Then all the meals! Somehow I manage to keep up my usual “everyone-comes-to-my-house-for-lunch-after-church-every-Sunday” ritual. I had not fully recovered from all that cooking/baking I did for Thanksgiving when the kitchen fairy – that cursed, wretched, slave-driving creature – reminded me I have much to do in December.

And don’t ask me why I drive myself to be the Queen of Christmas Decorating. I even do the front yard décor with lights and everything. But I have learned a valuable, sanity-saving secret. Let there be no item set out at Christmas – or any other time – that is more precious to you than the tiny hands that may break it. My younger self was not so gracious about this. But now I let my grandkids and great-grandkids rearrange my village, take baby Jesus out of the nativity, touch Santas with not-so-clean fingers….you get the idea. And every year, something gets broken. And I always ask the tearful offender, “What do I love more? You or (that thing) you broke? Of course, I love you more.”

To make this December worse, I started off the first week with some coughing, achy, sneezing, fatigued virus from hell. It lasted a week. Then the Sunday night before Christmas – after having thirty plus people here that day for lunch and to play that steal-the-gift game – I got a horrid bug that kept me up most of the night with some demonic minion twisting a burning knife in my stomach.

I had to babysit a grandson Monday and Tuesday before Christmas. To top that off, my youngest daughter, Heather’s, husband ended up in ICU, so I had those three grandkids too. I was facing a Christmas Eve meal and festivities for 20-30 family, plus preparing a complete meal to take to the in-laws in another city on Christmas day.

Heaving a heavy sigh while every bone and muscle in my sixty-six year old body groans in protest, I am forever grateful for Jesus Christ, Incarnate God, who chose to be born as a helpless newborn with a destiny to sacrifice His mortal, human body because of His profound love for mankind. Words are inadequate to express the depth of my love for my Lord and savior.

This Christmas, I am especially grateful that my son-in-law, Bobby, got released from the hospital to be with his family for Christmas. Also, my sweet grandson, Nathanael, and his wife, Jessica, handed me a box of Cerrata’s Chocolates, and said, “Our other Christmas gift is that we’re going to have a baby.”  A miracle I have been praying about for almost two years. Only a handful know the significance of that announcement. 

And because I love my family and friends, I will always look forward to Christmas. 

When The World Spins Out of Control!

Everyday there is something in the news that causes fear among the people of our nation. Diseases, terrorists, economics, political battles, special interest group agendas, and the list goes on. 

As Christians now is not the time to let down on our prayers. We should be praying and bombarding heaven as never before. But do we? I'm as guilty as anyone of allowing "things" to distract me. Some days I just can't seem to muster the energy or time to pray.

God forgive me!

I have a large family. Yes, I know I've said that before. But in a family my size, there will always be a crisis, circumstance, or a need that needs God's intervention. Often we don't even realize what's going on. 

BUT! God, the Holy Spirit, always knows. Have you ever been praying and begin to weep and travail without understanding why? I do, frequently! Probably because my family is so large and the Spirit is prompting me to pray for something I'm unaware of. Sometimes I weep in prayer over things I am aware of. 

Romans 8: 26 (NIV) In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.
Philippians 4: 6 (NIV) Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

In 1 Thessalonians 5:17, we're told to pray without ceasing. Of course we can't pray 24 hours a day, but God is instructing us to always be in an attitude of prayer as we function throughout our normal day activities. You can breathe a prayer or pray in your mind at any time and anywhere. 

Please, during these troublesome times, I encourage you to not let down your prayer guard. We need to be praying like never before. 

When God Has To Be Enough

I have a large family – a very large family. I have five children, three stepchildren. Those children have given me eighteen grandchildren, nine step-grandchildren, and nine great-grandchildren. Add to that my siblings, nieces, nephews, in-laws, cousins, aunts and uncles. You get the picture.

Out of that vast number, 80-90% are normal, ordinary, average dysfunctional (we ALL have dysfunction to some extent – it’s what makes us human). Unfortunately, it is the 10-15% – those who are screwed up, messed up, mentally unbalanced, selfish and self-centered – who exhaust our emotions, drain our well-being, rob us of our peace and joy, and consume our thoughts.

Out of my five children, my son has broken my heart repeatedly. He is a broken individual who has never completely surrendered to the Lord. He thinks he has been 100% sold out to the Lord in the past, but there was always a part of him – a dark, haunted, wounded place – that he withheld.

It has been another heart-wrenching, devastating week for my family with my son.

Most of the fiction I write is based on personal life experiences – mostly mine, or those I know and love. I’m sure these experiences with my son the past several months will be fodder for writing at some point in my life.

Although I thank God for the lessons I’ve learned, the experience of the depth of His mercy and grace that I’ve tasted, because of circumstances I have faced in life, I would gladly forgo some of that to not have suffered some things.

It is daily trusting in God’s sustaining providence. He is my portion, my reward, my hope, my strength, my all. He has to be, or I will not survive.

Because He is, I am! His grace is sufficient. His mercy never fails and endures forever. That’s scriptural. 

Always In His Care

God is always faithful, always at work in the lives of his children. Sometimes we stray from His will and plan for us, but we are never out of His care. If Jesus loves us enough to die for us, then He loves us enough to take care of us. He always, always knows where we’re at and what we’re facing.

While shopping this morning for half price Easter candy – admit it, we love to get a bargain on chocolate – I ran into an old friend, Jim. I met him and his family at church years ago. Their two daughters became friends with my daughters. His wife, Inge, and I became friends. The unique thing about them is that in addition to their two daughters and son, they always had several foster children.

Over the course of time, they adopted one of the foster girls, then within a few years, they adopted another foster child, a boy of different racial background. And they continued to be foster parents.

Inge has suffered with different ailments over the years, a brain tumor, and kidney failure. My daughters and I have stayed in contact with their daughters via Facebook. Last week Inge had a kidney transplant. The miraculous thing is the baby boy they adopted twenty seven years ago was a match, not any of her biological children. A decision years ago to change the life of one child by giving him a permanent family has had an impact this family never imagined. But God knew.

Last week Inge’s daughter and son stopped by to buy my book Like A Cedar In Lebanon for Inge to read while recuperating. When I saw Jim in Fry’s store this morning, I inquired how Inge and their son are doing. Among other things, he said, “Inge loves your book. So you’ve become a writer. That’s great.”

Had he stopped at, “Inge loves your book,” it would’ve been an encouragement. But, in the midst of his own storm with both a wife and son recovering from major surgery and the vigil to see if Inge’s body accepts this kidney, Jim began to speak life into my heart and spirit – about my writing and life in general.

Standing next to tables of marked-down Easter candy in a busy grocery store, tears sprang to my eyes. It felt like Jesus was breathing encouragement to my troubled spirit. You see, I have an alcoholic son. He has managed to destroy everyone and everything in his life. Whenever his name shows on my phone, I groan. He is so messed up and mixed up, it’s heart-wrenching for me to have any contact with him.

I have been praying lately, “God, whatever it takes, do SOMETHING!”  If you think of it, please pray for my son for deliverance, and pray for a speedy recovery for Inge and her son. If God knew twenty-seven years ago that a baby boy would be instrumental in saving his adoptive mother's life, then God knows and cares about whatever you may be facing today.

Lessons From A Funeral

We had the memorial service Saturday, May 25, 2013 for my ex-husband who passed away unexpectedly of a stomach aneurysm. Ah, the things we discover about ourselves and others at a time like this. In the following lessons, please keep in mind I am referring to the death of an ex-spouse, someone you've had children with, which has a whole different set of dynamics.

·         Death is inevitable. Well, duh, you say! An old truth hit home to me: we almost never know when death will happen. Live your life as if each day may be your last. Throughout your life, be kind and treat others as you want to be treated. It’s better to err on the side of mercy and grace than anger and spitefulness.
 

·         We all leave a legacy. What do you want people to remember about you?  What will others say about you when you’re gone? A eulogy will be read -- make it the best it can be.

·         Carefully choose your mate and stay married for life. I am very, very happily remarried, but the truth remains – divorce adds a whole set of dynamics in family situations, and so much of it is not pleasant. Uncomfortable and awkward doesn’t come close to describing how everyone feels in a room where both ex-spouses are present, even if one spouse is deceased. Your choice of a marriage partner impacts family, friends and the children your union produces. When you say “I do,” trust me, doing includes many things.

·         Never assume you know how you will feel or act, or even what your attitude will be. Emotions erupted in me that I thought I'd dealt with. At times like this, it’s better to keep some feelings to yourself. Let God be the healer. It's what He does best.

·         Death and funerals bring out the best and worst in people. Of course most of us already know this, but it bears repeating. Don’t be surprised when tempers flare, feelings are hurt, and someone’s behavior embarrasses others. It happens. Hope for the best, prepare for the worse, and cover everything with prayer.

·         Don’t judge others. Don’t assume you know and understand how someone feels. You have no idea -- the unbiased, to-the-core truth -- about someone’s relationship with the deceased. Unless you’ve walked a mile in their shoes, which you haven’t, be careful about judging or criticizing their emotions or actions during a time like this.

·         The simplest expressions of sympathy are the best. A hug, and “I’m sorry” or “I’m praying for you” or “I love you” is so much better than saying the wrong thing. This wasn’t my loss, it was my children’s and grandchildren’s. My loss happened years ago with the death of the marriage. Most people mean well with their words, so keep that in mind. Expressions come from people who genuinely love and care, so appreciate the sentiment behind it.

·         Be gracious! To everyone, be gracious! Within divorce and remarriage, you’ll be confronted with current spouses, mutual friends, and former in-laws. Be gracious at all times. Some issues may need to be talked about and addressed, but do it with it with kindness. If someone is venting or vomiting their poison on you, walk away.

·         Be considerate of current spouses. The majority of people at the memorial were people that knew me and my kids, and most didn’t really know Jerry – they were there in support of my children. I’m grateful Gladys, Jerry’s wife, was treated with kindness and respect. She’s a genuinely nice woman. However, my husband, Jeff, found it extremely difficult to sit through the service, especially the slide show that had many pictures of me with Jerry when our children were younger. If Jeff had his preferences, he wouldn’t have gone. He went out of love and support for me. Jeff and I know there was no way around a slide show with me in it, and would never have requested anything to the contrary. If you are faced with similar circumstances, be understanding. The memorial service isn’t about you.

·         I’ll repeat: It isn’t about you! It’s to remember and honor the deceased, and show love and support for the family. Everyone expresses their grief and emotions differently. We understand that. But it takes away from the purpose of a memorial service when a person dramatizes their grief to make themselves the star of the show. It’s childish and rude. Sob as loudly as you want or need to, no one will fault you for that. But it’s usually obvious when you are behaving in a way that discredits your grief. Behavior like that only adds to the grief of family and friends.

·         Lastly, I’m just stating a fact and not a lesson I learned. The week between Jerry’s passing and the memorial service was extremely stressful for me. Although Jeff and I had discussed several times what we would do when our ex’s passed, with the agreement that we would be there for our children, I discovered I really didn’t want to be there. I just did not want to. I did not want my family to be distracted by my presence – again, one of the difficulties of divorce. Since mutual friends and my brother planned to attend and expected to see me,  I felt I needed to be there.

I was given the opportunity to say something to Jerry, via phone held to his ear, as he was dying. Caught off guard, my mind reeled for a split second, then I managed to choke out, “Thank you for giving me five beautiful children, and I’ll see you in heaven.” We're convinced Jerry made his peace with God.

In the previous statements, I am not saying these things happened in this particular circumstance. It's my observation from now, and times of loss for others. To my husband, Jeff, you are my hero in how you handled the whole situation. I thank God every day for you.