This week we celebrated my brother’s birthday. And sure, there are lots of stories I could tell…but I won’t. I’ll spare him the public humiliation.
But as I reflect on what I’m grateful for this week, I would have to say I’m grateful for those stories. Each one, like the pieces of a quilt, represents a memory of a special time shared, whether it be funny or sad or sweet or embarrassing.  I was blessed to grow up in a home filled with love – for one another and for God. My parents were committed to building strong family bonds through time shared, and I have many happy memories of my childhood.
As I grew into adulthood, my brothers and I followed different paths. We settled in vastly different parts of the country. We married, had children, and became involved in our own lives to a certain extent. And we kind of lost a connection with each other to a degree – not because we didn’t care but because we were busy. And involved. And lived thousands of miles apart.
Thankfully, the past several years have seen a renewed effort to stay connected to one another. To continue to build those family bonds with the next generation – our children – so that they can have a sense of where they’ve come from, crazy as it is. I’m so grateful for the family God blessed me with. We sure may be a crazy quilt, but it’s a beautiful thing nonetheless.