My Story

It seems that every time I read the Old Testament, I wade through Leviticus and then I'm on the shore of Numbers, thinking why do I care?  But then something changed.... in Leviticus, I started to realize that it was showing me the extent to which I need a Savior, even my unintentional, accidental sin is an abomination to my God. But then comes Numbers and it still starts out as a list of people.  What's a girl to do?  Then a light bulb comes on...

Last spring, my parents were on vacation and I started getting emails and texts from my dad.  He wanted to know my husband's grandparents names and where they came from.  So, I pass off the information.  In a couple days time, I start getting emails from my dad that start listing off my husbands ancestry.  And this image floats into my inbox:

This is the copy of the 1930 Census in South Dakota and on it are my husband's great-grandparents, his grandfather and his grandfather's siblings.  All it took was this blurry image to spark my imagination.  I immediately notice that Paul's great-grandfather is of Danish decent and his great-grandmother is of German decent.  And now I want to know their story.  What brought their family to America, how did they meet, what was it like being the child of an immigrant?  Each person on this piece of paper is a person with a story and yet like a vapor they are gone.  Someday I will just be another name on a piece of paper, a vapor, the name that someone reads and says, that was my great-grandmother.

Numbers is similar to this census paper.  It is the beginning of the chronology of the Israelites, it is their link to the past.  Each name, each tribe, has a story.  For most of the names, their story died with them, but I think as the Israelites would gather and read the names and recall the stories, there was excitement.  Children would whisper, "That was my great-great grandfather, that was my grandma's cousin, that is MY story."