Roots

The word "story" is hidden in the word "history". History could be anything that happened before today!

I'm one of those people who always loved history. Both sides of my family collected family history, some of which tells of our family here since the 1600's . They had daguerratypes, old letters, old clothes. We had old circular letters my great-grandfather wrote to his children and circular letters his children wrote to each other. Many on both sides were believers with faith stories. We lived in a 100 year old farm with 12 buildings on it, not counting the well houses and the large buildings having 2-3 different functional parts. All the buildings were filled with old "stuff"! The stuff of stories!

My grandfather lived to be 96. He and my grandmother lived on the other side of the kitchen wall. He was born in 1900 so he lived through all the things that happened in our century from delivering milk with horse and wagon to watching men land on the moon on a color TV.

George's four grandparents all came to this country just after the turn of the century speaking other languages, leaving behind violence and revolutions, each marrying someone from a different country when they got here and making their way with very little. George grew up with those stories. Our kids grew up with some of both but because the world around them is so multicultural their roots may prove less magnetic than the world of friends.

I probably learned more church history because I was interested than from the church. We heard more stories of the beginning of the particular church we were married in than the stories of the larger church between Acts and the 20th century.

I knew someone who took a confirmation class that did a lot with church and denominational history. Her parents had recently changed churches. At the time she was taking the course, she was having a very different personal experience with God, with friends, in the church she grew up in, similar to that of her parents, - she was baptized in the Holy Spirit. She wanted to get baptized in water with her friends at the church her parents had left and her parents had reservations instead of saying, "You can get baptized anywhere you want!" and I don't know whether there was ever any real reconciliation of all those roots.

A mixture of stories. You probably have your own. Roots are called roots because that's what they are. They anchor you and help keep you upright. They nourish you. Sometimes you don't want anything to do with them. You want to cut them away. Maybe you're one of those plants with leaves that can be put in sand or water and they grow their own roots. Maybe we pay more attention to roots when we have kids. Kids ask alot of questions. Some of their roots will be yours and some will be their own but all of those roots will belong to their children.

(c) 2005 Margie Hillenbrand