There were some things leading up to Anna’s and my younger siblings’ dread of the “H word” that I must admit I, and the siblings closer to me in age, had quite a bit to do with. Well, I would like to delve further into the daily living of the Many Meadows and tell you the prequel to her story, and how at times family life just wasn’t pretty!

Backtrack to this one night in particular which was also one of our normal “family nights“ that were incorporated through most of our years growing up. After my Dad finished the long-winded droning of blah, blah blah that happened MANY a time when he had us all sitting down, he asked us what he had just talked about. We all looked at each other baffled. “Oh crap, he’s never asked this before after these blabberings. Usually it’s just,  ”Do you get that?” – and we would of course say, “Yes.”

None of us could recall any of what he was saying, and our attempts at guessing were getting him pretty heated. Well, this is where it got a little ugly. We were ordered to bed somewhat angrily!!! At 7:30 in the evening!!! And the next day when we were called together to discuss this event, and after getting grounded and lectured up and down, he again attempted to get his point across. I don’t know if we all got the gist of what he was saying even at that time, but we knew it was about heritage. Hence the dread of the “H word” was born, and many a time we would (somewhat) jokingly roll our eyes at the start of a yammering by Dad and say, “Oh no!  The H word!”, as in Anna’s story.

I will also say that I have been witness to my perfect parents being somewhat “imperfect” and that has become one of the values of the Meadows’ heritage in itself. My parents did not seek to pass down a heritage of human perfection, but one of strong Godly character. This one story is just a small glimpse into how our life really was. There were disobedient children, selfish teens, and yes, sometimes angry, frustrated parents, but the way the bad and ugly were dealt with and not hidden instilled yet another part of our Godly heritage.

And what means so much to me now is that I “get” heritage! No, I didn’t listen very well to all those lectures, but my Dad didn’t give up! And it’s a lot better that I remember that my Dad cared enough to sit down and talk with us about life, even if I was annoyed and didn’t always get what he was saying, than that he was some passive Dad who watched TV or worked all the time.

So your family life might have more bad and ugly than good, but are you still aggressively seeking to pass down a Godly heritage to your children? If you aren’t, then who will?

Erin

I remember it all too well.  We had just finished our family book reports, and all seven of us kids wanted to hurry up and watch Saved by the Bell Finale (which we had recorded on the VCR since it played during the boring book reports.)  Then Dad started talking.  We sat on the living room floor as he began to share from his heart.  It was then that he said it.  The word none of us hoped would come up.  The “H” word.  Heritage.

“NOOooooo!  Now we’re never going to get to watch our show!”— Those were the thoughts that passed through my head that evening.  Any time dad started talking about the “H” word, you were sure to be there for a while.  Of course I was only eight at the time and didn’t understand why the “H” word was so vitally important.

Heritage.  It is one of our family’s core values.  The passing down of values and teachings from generation to generation.

Our parents began to talk to us about heritage ever since I can remember.  My mom comes from a long line of Christ-followers, but my dad is a first generation believer, a curse breaker who settled in his heart long before he had children that he would lead his family to be lovers of God.  It was the basis of all we did.  It was why we homeschooled, why we lived in the country on a large piece of land—in the middle of nowhere.  It was why we raised chickens, and planted gardens, and learned how to feed ourselves from God’s Word more than anything else. 

You may call it weird, Amish, or even Little House on the Prairie, but I call it Heritage.  The values and standards I learned during that time of my life are now leading me as I attempt to put my own stamp on the world:   How to get along with others, doing everything with excellence, leading out of love—those are just a few of the things that are now hard-wired into each one of us.  Not because we took a class on them, but because we lived them, everyday of our lives, as our parents patiently passed them down by simply modeling what it could look like. 

That is Heritage.   The daunting “H” word that now, I plan on passing to my own family some day. 

What type of heritage do you want to leave for your family?  Now is the time to start!

Anna