I came from our main “trunk” and I started out as a tiny bud that grew into a little twig. Then I developed into a branch. Years went by and I too became a trunk with my own own branches which, in turn, are sprouting new buds and little twigs. Now my branches are becoming trunks and inevitably I will become part of the root system. While I'm still a trunk, I must think seriously about fulfilling my trunk destiny.
Given time, I
anticipate that an entire human forest will grow up around our family
tree. I don't want to be lost in that forest. I have lived. I matter,
as does every unique individual in our heritage. After I leave Planet
Earth, future members of our family might want to know vital facets
of their heritage and come across my name. Since I am presently a
trunk and closer to the roots than they will be, it's up to me
whether I will have made it easier or more difficult for them to find
out who they are in relation to our root system?
That doesn't
necessarily mean that I have to spend time on complicated genealogy
charts. However, I feel accountable to God who gave me life to let my
posterity know in some user-friendly way who I am, what the times
were like when I lived, my faith, and what I believed to be the
purpose of my life. My children and grandchildren should realize that
I was not always a mom, not always a grandma. I had and still have
hopes, dreams, ideals, ideas, problems, and struggles like they have.
I would like them to know the real me.
Families differ in
their regard for the past. I had wonderful, caring parents and
grandparents, but they were not the kind who poured into me stories
of our heritage. As immigrants from Europe, they were understandably
focused on making a living in the land of their adoption. Possibly
they wanted to forget the hardships and misfortunes of their past.
Nevertheless, looking back I do feel truncated, cut short in
knowledge of my ancestry.
Later in life I had to dig deep into the hard ground of the root system to find the gold that was surely there, as it is in every life, every family. Like an eager detective, I followed slim clues. I was amazed, surprised, delighted, and excited with every small gem of the past that I discovered. Sad to say, no matter how deep I dug, I was never able to recover some parts of our precious heritage which only my forebears knew. These are lost to our posterity.
Later in life I had to dig deep into the hard ground of the root system to find the gold that was surely there, as it is in every life, every family. Like an eager detective, I followed slim clues. I was amazed, surprised, delighted, and excited with every small gem of the past that I discovered. Sad to say, no matter how deep I dug, I was never able to recover some parts of our precious heritage which only my forebears knew. These are lost to our posterity.
That loss has
spurred me on to find and appreciate the treasure of the past and
record it in some way for our legacy. In writing my autobiography, I
was disappointed that my parents and grandparents left no letters,
diaries, journals, or records about themselves or their roots. They
passed on without passing on anything tangible of our
heritage to me as an only child. They left without leaving written
footprints for me to follow. I have only my personal, imperfect
memories of them, some of which may be colored by my perceptions more
than reality. They could have spoken for themselves by leaving some
record of their lives—but they didn’t.
It was not all
their fault, however. When I was young, it didn’t even occur to me
to ask about our ancestry or my grandparents’ earlier experiences.
I didn’t really care at the time; but I certainly did later. How I
regret my youthful thoughtlessness! Children rarely care about their
roots because they are absorbed with their present lives and their
more exciting futures stretching out seemingly open-ended.
Be that as it may,
it is my opportunity to prepare for the time when they will
care. It is up to me to fulfill my trunk destiny and pass on
the essence of myself, what I know of our priceless past, and how
important our Christian faith has been to our heritage. I am the
trunk between my great-grandchildren and my great-grandparents, the
earliest generation I have been able to trace. A seven generation
span. What an awesome responsibility!
In the summit
season of my life I am satisfied that I have done my best to pass on
our heritage and my own faith journey. By writing for my posterity, I
am saying, “God gave me life. I have lived fully through its
seasons. I want you to know me. I want to tell you how I felt about
God's purpose for my life.”
I believe God holds
me to a stewardship of the experiences He brought me through and of
what He taught me. I feel a mandate to pass on those things; it is
both my opportunity and wonderful privilege.
“Let this be
recorded for the generation yet unborn, a people yet to be created
[so that they] may praise the Lord” (Psalm 102:18).
FAMILY
TREE
I
am part of what
has been and what is yet to be.
Sandwiched
in between is me:
I
am the trunk of the family tree.
I
have roots and also branches.
Generations
from antiquity pass through me.
They
have determined what I have become.
They
are my history which has made me what I am.
New
branches spring from me; they are my posterity.
I’ve
had some choice in assisting and inclining them
toward
the best of what they might become.
Yet
they are still free to grow and change
within
the range of their heredity and opportunity
and
God’s special plan arranged from Eternity.
I
pray for me—the trunk between—that I might be
a
planting strong against the inevitable storms
yet
bending with the wind if need be
passing
on the best from roots unseen
but
giving branches room to stretch and reach
upward
to new heights
because
I faithfully fulfilled
with
the help of God
in my family tree
my
trunk destiny.
****
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