Now, I know y’all have better things to do than read some old gal’s ramblings. But you know, you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t at least a smidge curious. So, keep those spectacles on and let me share a tale that’ll make you laugh, cry, and perhaps think of your own kin with a bit more fondness.
Ah, family feuds. Ain’t nobody got time for ’em, right? Wrong! Let’s dive into the marvelously messy world of grudges and rivalries, Texas style. Now, I remember my cousin Betty-Sue and her feud with Aunt Clara like it was yesterday. It started over the pettiest of things—an argument over who made the better apple pie at the county fair. Mercy! If only they had read Ecclesiastes 7:9 – “Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit, for anger resides in the lap of fools.” But honey, fools we were.
Picture This: A County Fair Turns Sour
The story harks back to 1978, a time of grand Pecan Festivals and rotary phones. There we were, minding our own business at the Jasper County Fair, when Betty-Sue’s pie snatched the blue ribbon right out from under Aunt Clara’s nose. Let me tell ya, you could have cut the tension with a butter knife! Aunt Clara, bless her soul, declared war then and there. And that, dear reader, was the genesis of a feud that would span generations.
The Pie That Schemed
Now, most families have their ups and downs, but this was like a daytime soap opera. Aunt Clara accused Betty-Sue of bribing the judges. Betty-Sue claimed Aunt Clara had sabotaged her oven. Even Uncle Jimmy got dragged into it when he threw his hands up and declared, “Can’t a man eat a piece of pie in peace?” This feud divided our family in the silliest of ways. Thanksgiving dinners turned into two separate affairs, with kinfolk having to choose sides. We didn’t need TV; our family gatherings were entertainment enough!
How in tarnation did we get here? You may wonder. Well, there’s nothing so sticky as good ol’ pride. Both women dug their heels in, neither willing to forgive nor forget. And let’s not kid ourselves—we all have a bit of that pigheadedness somewhere inside. But let me tell you something: nothing is more freeing than letting go.
When God Speaks Through a Pastor
Fast forward to the late 90s, our pastor delivered a sermon that hit home. A verse from Matthew 5:9 absolutely shook us: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.” That Sunday, Pastor Jim talked about forgiveness, and how holding onto grudges was like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die. We all nodded our heads, but putting it into practice? Well, that’s where the story gets spicy.
Aunt Clara attended that very sermon, sitting in the back pew clutching her Bible like a lifeline. Betty-Sue was there too, face as red as a ripe tomato. Neither woman said a word, but we could all see the gears turning in their heads. The tension was so thick, it was like a firecracker waiting for a spark.
The Olive Branch
Two weeks later, something miraculous happened. Aunt Clara walked her stubborn self across the street to Betty-Sue’s house with a homemade apple pie in tow. I know what you’re thinking—ain’t this how it all started? But this time, the pie was an olive branch, served warm with a generous scoop of forgiveness.
Betty-Sue opened the door, and you could see the shock on her face. Aunt Clara just stood there, pie in hand, and said, “It’s about time we let God between us instead of the devil.” Now if that ain’t a revelation, I don’t know what is. Betty-Sue burst into tears and hugged her tight, nearly squishing the pie in the process.
Lessons From the Feud
So, how do you handle a family feud that’s been going on for decades? You let the Good Lord guide your steps. It may sound simplistic, but honey, life’s too short for grudges. The moment they embraced and forgave each other, it was like a weight lifted off all our shoulders. The next Thanksgiving, we had a family reunion for the ages—both sides coming together under one roof, with not a harsh word in sight.
Forgiveness is not just a grand gesture; it’s in the little things. It’s swallowing your pride for the greater good. It’s remembering that family is a God-given blessing, not a battleground. My dear ol’ Grandpa used to say, “You can be right, or you can be happy.” As a woman of 60 who’s seen her fair share of battles, I choose happiness. And if a family feud ever comes knocking on your door—whether it’s over a pie or politics—remember that God’s peace is always within reach, just a prayer away.
They say laughter is the best medicine, but I’d argue that forgiveness is the secret ingredient. So go on, look at that ol’ grudge one more time, and maybe—just maybe—consider letting it go. You didn’t read all this just to ignore it, did you?
