In her life, my grandmother has tried many tactics to get the love she longs for from her family. She'll throw a fit at my brother's ballgame to draw attention. She will show up unannounced on doorsteps. Many Christmases I've received a set of "Thank You" notes under her tree. She is generous; and often that generosity comes with fine print. She works very hard in all the wrong ways to get the affection she's so desperate for. All my life she's been like a woman holding a handful of water, not understanding that the tighter she grips, the more drips away; rather than having more control, she only has less of it to hold. My grandmother is an intelligent and well-read woman who has been in church almost every single Sunday of her life. I have no doubt that she's read and heard and been taught the story of the prodigal son many times. And I wish so badly that she could've really listened to it and heard what the story had to say about who God i...