Living Out the Dash

I absolutely love making homemade Christmas gifts. I enjoy praying over the person who will receive the gift. This year I jumped on the crazy train and decided I was going to give my family a present from the past. Genealogical study has always ranked high on my list of fairly nostalgic (albeit kind of nerdy) endeavors, but it has always fascinated me to see where I came from and the rich history of men and women coming together to produce my ancestors.

I bought one of these huge fan charts that goes out nine generations with our siblings at the core. I used it as a math lesson for my ‘pokes: 4 grandparents, 8 greats, 16 great-greats, 32, 64, 128, 256... As we tried to begin our research endeavor we quickly realized we were swimming in a sea of the unknown.

One of the ideas that continued to overwhelm me was the further we got out on the chart, the less and less we knew about that particular family member. Some of the wives maiden names got lost, some of the simple facts of even birth and death year were no longer attainable. After a while my ancestors were reduced to a name, two years and a dash. Some disappeared altogether.

What was their life that quantified the “dash?” It is intriguing to figure out if they were alive during the signing of the Declaration of Independence or the Civil War, but what were they doing during those years? I had a great great grandpa whose mom died when he was one and his dad passed away when he was three. He falls off the census records for nearly 30 years, but he went somewhere… he survived, and someone took care of him… but whom?

I’ve continued to ponder the idea of how am I living out my “dash?” How do I ensure that my story will permeate the pages of history? I don’t care one bit about making a mark in the world history books, but how do I leave a lasting legacy for my cowpokes and their children and my great grandchildren?

My deepest desire is to pass on a rich heritage of faith. I want them to know that their mama/nana loved the Lord fiercely and loved them to the ends of the Earth. I hope they know that I was a sinner saved by grace and I made mistakes all the time. My dash should be a jagged dotted line.

The one thing certain about 2020 was the uncertainty of it all. We have fairly complacently quit doing almost everything this year, but mostly we have quit living life to the full. It might be good to ponder how we are living out our “dash” before they put our final year on our tombstone.