Over the holidays I was able to look through some books on my family’s history while I was at my parents’ house. Somebody in the family cared enough to research and record as much family history as about 450 years of family history – as far as they could find – to learn more about the family and then they put it all down in a book. What a wonderful gift!

My family isn’t necessarily loaded with movers and shakers. I found no record of kings or anything like that. Instead, innkeepers, brewers, writers, and such. More recently, my father was a pastor and is a spiritual leader in a church, my grandfather ran a bus ministry at a church and my grandmother taught children in the church for years, and one of my great grandfathers helped in the founding of a church.

But that’s not my real heritage.

You see, as a believer, my real heritage is found in God. As a son of God, I have a heritage in him. He has given me his name and I am part of his family.

Why is this important?

Knowing where I come from helps me gain perspective. It helps me know who I am. Where I am. It helps me understand responsibility. My responsibility to carry the family name. To live up to the heritage I’ve been given. In fact, it’s really my job to improve and advance the family name – or at the very least, not to bring it shame.

Lord, help me to live up to the heritage I’ve been given. To live a life worthy of your calling. To honor you.

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