Commending His Works to the Next Generation

Haven't been writing much about debt-reduction lately, but I think that it because this blog has become about so much more than that.  If I could retitle it, which I've considered, it would definitely have the word "faith" in the title and it would be more about my journey of faith.  This would still include our journey about getting out of debt, but what I've learned is that getting out of debt isn't my entire focus in life! It is still a big part of what we are about.  It started out that way, when I first began the blog a few years ago.  In a way, I still want it to be that way where we try every day to do something that will reduce debt, but now, looking back over all the journal entries, I see that God had so many more things to teach me and so many more things to write about.  I will continue to pursue writing about the things we do and the miracles that happen in our debt-reduction journey, but I also love writing about the many lessons I learn sometimes that have nothing to do with debt-reduction. That's just a disclaimer for the title of my blog and why I sometimes have nothing financial in a post!

Last night was an awesome opportunity for me to get to know my in-laws' and my husband's uncle's history a lot better.  RM's uncle flew in from California for a couple of weeks.  He's in his late 70s, as is my mother-in-law (they're brother and sister).  Knowing that you never know when it'll be the last time you see someone, we thought we should take advantage of his being in town and get the two of them together to talk about their amazing history.  RM and I went over with a laptop and I just sat there for two hours while they talked, me typing down every word that was said.

We began with prayer, big mistake....the tears started right away, for everyone.  They have a sad and moving history.

It began well.  They were people of faith who came from people of faith, who came from people of faith.  Did the great-grandparents pray for us so many years ago?  Their father used to preach in the local church (which he also helped build) whenever the regular pastor couldn't be there.  They were living in what would now be Poland, but it was Germany then, before borders were changed.  It was a happy life.

One day, in 1939, the war started.  At first there was no impact, but a few years later, they were told to grab all their things and head for the train station, with only the clothes on their backs and whatever they could carry.  The Russians were coming and their lives were in danger.  Their dad had already left and had been drafted for the war.  That would be the last time they ever saw him.  His ship would be shot down and he would drown at sea.

Their young mom, only 33, would leave their village with 5 children, ages 1-8 along with her sister, her children and their elderly mom.  The next few weeks and months, they would become refugees along with thousands of others.  The Russians would even rape their aunt at one point, when the soldiers were drunk and looking for trouble one night.  RM's grandmother would avoid this terrible fate because her children clung to her legs when they tried to get her, too.

Just before being forced out of their village, their mom (RM's grandmother) would get the awful news that her husband was officially missing in action.  RM's uncle could barely get through that part of the story as he remembered it like it was yesterday, being a boy of 8.  Their dad was only 39 when he died.

They went from railroad station to railroad station, from village to village, walking down the beaches of the Baltic, over the bodies of dead soldiers and horses, narrowly missing shots from the Germans shooting at the Russians, trying to keep them at bay.  Eventually they would end up with 4 families living in a barn that had been turned into living accomodations.  They stayed in that place for several years.  Hard to imagine.  Over 600 km from their original village.

It was in that new location that they settled and regular life began, children grew up, money was saved, a house was built and then some eventually immigrated to the U.S. and Canada.  This is a much shorter version of what was shared last night, but it gives a picture of some of what they went through.

Through it all they saw the miracles that happened that kept them alive.  When other trains were shot down by the Russian planes, their train wasn't.  When other ships were torpedoed, their's was safe. They cannot explain this, except that they were given second chances at life, by the grace of God. I'm grateful for that because I married one of the descendants of these brave people!  It was wonderful to learn of my children's godly heritage.  I knew more about my parent's side of course and the faith my grandparents had.  It was exciting to learn that it was also from my husband's side.  My children need to know this and the impact of faithful grandparents and great-grandparents.

Last week my kids had the fun opportunity to see Hillsong Young and Free at a church nearby.  A concert that gave them sore muscles from "worshiping"!!!  The band used this verse as a theme for the night...it reminds me of what I've just been writing about,

One generation commends your works to another;
    they tell of your mighty acts. (Ps. 145:4)


I think that was what I was hearing last night, the commending of God's mighty works to us, the next generation.  It brings me back to the beginning of this post.  I think that is what I want my blog to be about more than just debt-reduction.  I want it to be a written account of God's mighty acts to the next generation.