Courageous Gifts of Roots

About four hundred years ago, a family left Wales for a newly founded Penn’s Colony. With a few older boys in tow, and one who made his appearance when crossing the Atlantic (aptly named Seaborn), they made the voyage successfully. Settling into the colony, the family became established in their community. Time passed, generations branched out and moved southwest into Kentucky. Deep into timbered hills, where shadows rest late in the morning and pull along evening’s approach early, families were established. Gardens were planted, homes were built and a few lone settlers became communities.

On a recent trip I was reminded of the gift of roots. It took courage to leave a home in Wales and travel across an ocean; to later say goodbye to the established colony and settle the frontier of the Appalachian hills. Generations continued, learning to lean on each other as they formed their own families, taking root and becoming communities.

I watched and listened as family surrounded me last week. Each unique in their gifts, each very special. This beautiful hilled place will be forever my family home, a holder of stories and songs that rise in the memory like the morning mist. Each generation has the opportunity to be a builder for the next, to give them another strong layer upon which to place their own structure. I also am part of the branching out, and in so doing found a new home.    

Blood Will Out – Or So They Say

I love history, understanding why and how things worked at a period of time and how that has created ripple effects that translate to our lives today.  I find myself doing an internal eye roll and silent sigh heaving every time I hear it said that history isn’t interesting or not important.  Intrigue, war, politics, romance, power, peace, learning, conquering, wins, losses, explorations – it is all there!  In the whole span of history, my favorite time period to read about is 12^th century Wales.  After starting as curiosity from a family genealogy project, I found stories that let me put historical flesh back on people and make them much more real to me. 

A phrase in that study leads me to more of an etymology understanding, “blood will out.”  In other words, at the end blood will tell, the family history will show itself, and true heritage will break through.  It is an interesting concept, one worthy of discussion and consideration.  I was looking at it in the case of Llywelyn ap Gruffydd ap Llywelyn Fawr, (that is Llywelyn, son of Gruffydd, son of Llywelyn the Great) or Llywelyn Prince of Wales, to add an interesting layer.  Llywelyn Fawr, the grandfather, was known as “the Great” and the first to steer Wales from a loose collection of fractious rivalries to a power that would form the seed of a nation.  This man faced dissent both from inside his borders, his neighbors, and from the looming border of England.  Even his son, Gruffydd, did not demonstrate his father’s understanding of the love of country over the love of son; creating a rift that would not heal in Gruffydd’s lifetime.  It was the grandson who understood the dream, where blood told of the nobleness of self-denial in an effort to create a strong and independent nation from disjointed lands, political maneuverings, and shadowy dreams.  It’s a much older argument than so nicely phrased in nature vs. nurture. 

Blood will out – human blood sullied by the sin of the first man, the first woman and carried in our veins since.  Blood will out – the Christ follower who receives a transplant of sorts, a washing away of the sin.  It is in the changes of the Christ follower’s life that we see that blood will indeed show itself time and again.  It is when we see changes that make impacts that are both deep and long lasting over generations that we see this blood change.  Blood will out – indeed.  

Gwenllian

Hundreds of years ago a baby was born, a little girl. Her mother, Eleanor, died in birth. Tucked in the royal palace of Wales, her father Llywelyn, went out to fight the English king. A skirmish occurred and her father never returned to her. Instead, this baby eventually wound up in the custody of King Edward I and the English court. As a baby of royal birth, Edward’s own cousin, was put into a convent in Sempringham at the Gilbertine Priory.

It is a story that catches the imagination. Raised as a darling of the nuns, a little girl who does not know her heritage or birthrights, the nuns themselves may not have known. Yet, not even two hundred miles from the Welsh natural fortress of Snowdonia, there was a small nation full of people who knew that their prince had had a child. Can you not imagine the rumors, the stories spun over years?

I have wondered if Gwenllian ever received word from her people, from one of the Cymru who felt it their duty to tell their princess the truth. Did Edward ever doubt his choice? This was after all his own family member. There must have been great fear that the people would rally around this baby grown to be a woman and revolt against Edward’s rule. I wonder what the discussion was in the court. Did anyone stop and care about an infant that was imprisoned in a cloistered world by virtue of her birthright?

What birthright do I have as a child of the Most High King that I am letting myself be cloistered from, imprisoned away by bad choices, sin, humanity, foolishness, or not understanding. If someone could have slipped Gwenllian a letter explaining, would she have held it close as a part of her heritage or wept over what had been taken away? If I could look back at the alternatives, the what-ifs, would I weep at what could have been or be able to take comfort in knowing that God’s plan for me is perfect, that my short comings are not anything that can stop God. As I started out the day today, before I even got out of bed (I was reluctant to say good-bye to my pillow this morning), I was praying for the day, for the people that I remember in my prayers. I will pray also that God’s grace be upon my day and yours. That even though we all have our own prison we are in, that truth, grace, and wisdom will be given and received.