Curveballs

Sometimes life throws them at you. Or God throws them at you. Or life throws them at you and God helps you through them. It's that whole perfect will / permissive will thing, and personally, it's not something I have the energy to think about right now.
One way or another, life takes some unexpected turns and it seems to happen at somewhat inconvenient times.
Just recently I was contacted via facebook by my real dad's fiance. For those of you who don't know, it's been about 20 years since I've had ANY contact with my real father. Bruce has always been my dad, will always be my dad, and has been the only one who has shown much interest in me. Well, this contact obviously came as a great surprise. She had contacted me for him (he doesn't have facebook, though is considering it now, beautiful), to tell me my grandmother (who I greatly enjoyed and was the ONLY one I have any memory of from that side of my family) had passed away. They informed me of the times of the visitation and funeral and put the ball in my court as to whether I wanted to come or not. For those of you who don't know my dilema, imagine for yourself for a moment that an individual denied you time and time again and then finally said, "hey, gonna be in town friday if you want to meet up... with all of my family, with brothers and sisters you didn't know you had and a whole lot of ppl who remember you but you don't remember, yeah, the day after tomorrow... Friday." Ummm, difficult. Not to mention on top of the whole scenario I worry completely about my dad... Bruce's... reaction to my decision. If I did choose to go what kind of hurt would that bring him. A great deal as I'm told. And of course, here comes my Biblical perspective.
It's the biological dad and the adoptive dad, in every sense of the word for me. The adopted dad raised me... brought me, went to dance recitals and ball games, congratulated on straight A's and on celebrated on birth days, took me to the zoo, to tropical sno, sat with me when I was sick. The biological one, well, he did nothing of value except assist in bringing me to be. And the thought, from the adopted dad, if I then wanted to find out what this biological dad was all about, can't be good. It's like us, as Christians... we are adopted into God's family. We relish in all of the rewards of the family, all of the joys of being a part, made His own, loved as if I'd been born in myself... and then temptation rears its ugly head and I become curious to what this other side of me is. It was the sin I was born into... isn't that who I really am? You see the correlation here?
Anyway, I decided not to go to the funeral. Not because I think my real dad is sin or anything... I just didn't feel like the appropriate time to meet and greet with family I've not seen in 20 years was at my grandma's funeral. I want it to be a time to celebrate her life... not our reuniting.
So anyway, there's my two cents.
-a