My Bio mother was part Blackfeet from Browning MT. but I was abandoned at I think Angels of Mercy in LA in 54, went to a foster family at 7 mos. and adopted in 57. Blackfoot are from the Canadian side. Blood brothers of the flesh but Two slightly different tribes.
Since Obama care crashed and my daughter lost her job she has been working from home, online first for Williams-Sonoma but more recently for Ancestery.com. I have been tempted to use Ancestry DNA. I am resisting because I fear it may alter my perception of trying to remain racially neutral and I'd rather remain this way. Than being influenced by something I had no control over at all. I have talked for a few hours with by bio-mother. She was a homeless, pregnant, teenage runaway from the rez. I was born in the charity ward of a catholic hospital in LA She only remembered it had the word 'Angeles' in it. If it were say Harbor General for example my birth certificate would say Carson, not Los Angeles.
City of Angeles, Queen of Angeles, Angeles of mercy etc... I don't care! She didn't get an abortion is all that matters to me. She did me a favor, my father was white and the Blackfeet were less than kind to 1/2 white babies at the time. She was sick too. Heroin and alcoholism. Water under the bridge. I'm happy the way things turned out. Praise the Lord!
Well, I am just spinning here but I think if we believers want more info on our roots, we should just ask God. I think that is why David got into trouble doing a census when he could have just asked God what he wanted.
I asked God what ancestry He views me as, He said Judah. I asked my mother and aunt about that and they confirmed my maternal great grandfather was full blooded Jew. I knew he was German, but he was Jew also.
It is odd because she, my grandmother, was fully Christian. Only a traditional Christian though as she never went to church. Our house and grandma's house sat side by side. I grew up with plaques of Christian verses on the walls.
My adoptive family was a mixed bag. Her mothers family was from Dalmatia and had a mix of eastern (Greek) orthodox traditions but Catholicism had taken over the islands. Post WW1 anarchy broke out and they took a tiny fishing boat to SF bay where mom was born. They converted to RCC by default thru lack of orthodox communities in California in the 20's. Nuna (Grandma) wanted to make double sure so she had a painting of Mary with thorns around her heart, next to an identical painting of Jesus. She couldn't read so all she knew was the propaganda she was taught.
Mom couldn't speak English yet so she had to go to Catholic School as English was required by law for public school attendance. What a mess. Her father died of double pneumonia he got while fishing, mom dropped out and went to work cleaning fish before she was 12. About 1930.
Dad was a dust bowl refugee who thought farming would last forever with little education and no Christianity. His hillbilly/dust bowl survivor logic convinced him RCC dogma was a pack of lies. He believed in God and thanked the Lord, out loud occasionally. He followed no doctrine. I occasionally call him an agnostic but really he chose not to follow any religion. Rather he followed his heart and he was a very kind loving man who hated deception. That's about enough about them. They both passed away fall of 96. the were married winter of 39 before New Years. Together nearly 60 years.
I can't be too hard on traditional Christians. There is so much misinformation and backbiting prejudice going on in the churches, it is no wonder nobody look for God there. I earnestly sought God from 12 to 14 years old. I was really looking for a man to follow while he sought Jesus. I looked around and found none that applied the word perfectly to his life. I became disillusioned and gave up.
Like I said in my bio, God's word has an anointing on it. Even though I became agnostic, the word did change me. At 12, I was just coming out of my PTSD from watching my closest friend and brother burn to death at 5 years old, I was 3. Once I starting to talk about the incident, which was very hard at first, I healed little by little. During those first 11 years I was an annoying brat. I cared not whose feelings I stepped on.
Thankfully the Lord forgave us for dineing with swine. He put a ring on our finger and treated us as if we had done nothing wrong. Fatherhood helped me to understand his gracious grace.
