Family legends I know
I’m using “legend” as a verb rather than a noun as a chapter title in the book I’m writing. In the Dictionary According to Rhonda, “legend” means a story, recollection or action, or all of the above.
In my heart, all of my predecessors earned the recognition that comes with the other meaning of that term. They have a right to own it. They are each the compilation of experiences and actions across all generations back to Eve. They broke new trails, braved every kind of trial, every extreme of weather, dealt with untamed predators (animal and human). They faced every unknown – and they did it successfully!
I wish I could have known the earliest of my family legends. Knowing or not knowing ancestors has no bearing on their blood that gives us life and their genes that shape and drive us, mentally and physically. The One who matters is the Maker — of them and all who came before, of me, and of all who will come later.
He’s my Tutor, Planner, Provider, Consultant, Guide, Leader, Protector — ever present, ever attentive, ever able. He has also been each of those things to every ancestor of mine, whether or not they chose to acknowledge him and what he was doing.
Therein lies the key to joy along the way. I didn’t say “glee” or “laughter.” He serves up “joy” in the midst of whatever mess we may be in, whether we survive on this side or not.
Only by consistently being “doer’s of the Word” can we say we “follow him.” Only by the constancy of his guiding hand can we be either a “doer of the Word” or a “follower of his.” We never walk alone, unless we purposely choose to take a sideroad or a shortcut.
To get back to the title of this writing — I knew when I typed it that I’m convinced every individual I know who’s part of my family on either side (or of the one I married into and wear the name of) is a hero. Every one of them has or will walk or ride a horse on the face of this earth. Each one has or will do their best or their worst, and has or lacks many talents. Each will be or not be where God designates him or her to be while eternity rolls on.
Only by consistently being “doer’s of the Word” can we say we “follow him.” Only by the constancy of His guiding hand can we be either a “doer of the Word” or a “follower of his.”
I wish I could have known the earliest of my family legends, but only in Daddy’s Thompson line did I get past two generations … with tiny Great–grandma Ida, who never lost her German accent or tidy ways.
Not getting to know the others was obviously the will of God. Knowing or not knowing ancestors has no bearing on their blood that gives us life and their genes that shape and drive us, mentally and physically. The One-Who-matters is the Maker — of them and all who came before; and of me.
Walking with him is the key to joy along the way. I didn’t say “glee” or “laughter.” He serves up “joy” in the midst of whatever mess we may be in, whether we survive on this side or not.
I always ask him to let me be right here, in Wyoming! I’m convinced there is no place better, an’ the Bible says heaven is gon’na come through the clouds down here, “Oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam, where the deer an’ the antelope play; where seldom is heard, a discouraging word, an’ the skies are not cloudy all day! Home, home on the range! where the deer an’ the antelope play … where seldom is heard a discouraging word, an’ the skies are not cloudy all day. …”
