Hereditary

My grandfather, Albert M. Beights, is the tall, dark & handsome young man standing in the back behind his father. He was the oldest of eleven children.

I wonder how much, if any, of our ancestors' memories are imprinted on our DNA? Every so often a scene or a phrase or a moment in time gives me a deja vu feeling, like I have experienced that before, even when I'm in a new environment. I'm sure many of those moments are overlapping memories in my own life-- something that triggers a familiar feeling. But I'm not so sure that is the case for every instance of strange familiarity we come across in our lives.

I watched a television program on Ireland and Wales a while back, and I sat there transfixed looking at the scenes of the countryside. I have never been to Ireland, but something deep down inside felt a familiarity and a connection to what I was viewing. I feel the same when I hear Celtic music. Is it simply that I know some of my ancestors came from that area of the world? Or could it be a faint imprint of memories from hundreds and thousands of years of ancestors who came before me... the ones whose blood runs through my veins? I wonder about those people sometimes... those who gave me my eyes and skin color and freckles and moles, my hair color and the propensity for it to thin right above my forehead, my body shape and height, the weight's my problem, my straight top teeth and crooked bottom teeth. Who gave me strong legs and weak arms, my creative thoughts and stubborn will?

I can look to my most immediate ancestry-- my parents, and see the obvious. I have my fathers wide big toe and my mother's remaining smaller toes. I have my father's squared off fingers and big knuckles rather than my mother's feminine, tapered ones. I have my mother's eyes, but my father's eyelids. I look more like my mother in the face, but people say I walk like my father. I hope I've also inherited their kind, generous hearts, their ability to bloom where they're planted, and their incredible legacy of integrity, consistent faith and dedication to God, and loyalty to family and friends. But when you think about it, those are actually modeled traits, and I'm so thankful I was born into their family to witness their lives all these years. They were and are great role models for me to watch and pattern those traits in my own life.

I am a convergence of a hundred generations before me. It staggers my mind to think of that. How exciting it would be to meet everyone in my lineage. What interesting conversations we could have! I wonder if there is someone in my past that looked like me. I wonder from whom I inherited this tendency to talk or write more than I should...

I can't think only of the past without acknowledging the present and looking to the future. I need to be aware of what I'm passing on to my children, my grandchildren, and if the Lord tarries, to other descendants. Am I modeling good habits and a loving and generous spirit? Am I leaving an inheritance behind? Maybe not so much monetarily, sorry kids, but I hope the time God has given me here has not been in vain. I hope I've influenced and encouraged those around me in positive ways. I have regrets, though. I've wasted time. I've been lazy. I've failed in some major areas of my life. But I've experienced the opposite, too, and I'm learning to let the good memories, the things I've done right, and the times of productivity and hard work prevail over the regrets.

The adjective hereditary can describe tangible as well as intangible traits. I've actually heard some people boast or use as an excuse that they had their father's temper, or their family's bad financial habits, as if those were as unchangeable as their eye color. And these days much more time is focused on the physical and mental traits rather than the spiritual. But the latter is the only one with eternal benefits and consequences. And God's legacy to us? Heredity through adoption in which we can experience His love, blessings, favor, guidance, understanding of His Word, wisdom (if we ask for it), and eternal life through acceptance of His Son. The difference is that we had no choice in choosing our physical parentage and the color of our skin, but we can choose our spiritual parentage and the quality of our character.

Now at this point, I would also like to apologize to  my children for their inherited skin conditions, thinning hair, crooked teeth, nearsightedness, and colorblindness, but I hope they will also recognize and appreciate the love, the creativity, the humor, and especially the legacy of faith handed down to them.

Looking backward and forward in my lineage, I can say what a fortunate and blessed grand-daughter, daughter, sister, child of God, friend, wife, mother, aunt, and grandmother. What a joy!