“I give you two years.” He spoke with cynicism in his voice. “Two years, and you will be gone.”
Well, if this little speech was supposed to inspire me, it wasn’t working. Truth be told, I was only there because my husband had been offered a job. It wasn’t that I was opposed to moving to Canada, but it certainly hadn’t been part of my master plan.
I was 22, immature, and beginning to wonder if leaving my family and country behind to come to a place where I felt more tolerated than wanted a great deal of the time was really worth it.
Then this thought (no doubt mixed with a little stubbornness) floated through my frustration.
“I come from pioneer stock. If those men and women were able to go into a wilderness with bears, wildcats, Indians, and no mall, then surely, I could make also make it in a new land.”
Pioneer stock, you say?
Absolutely. Consider Johannes Hess, who, in 1710, at 18-years of age crossed the ocean from Germany—sixty-six years before the American Revolution. His family crest signified the title of baron, had a helmet showing knighthood, trees and fields indicating ownership of land, and symbols citing battles fought and won.
Unfortunately, after Louis XIV arrived in Germany and destroyed entire kingdoms, including the castle I was to inherit (or so I imagine), the Hess family crest was pretty much all that the family had left. Johannes headed to New York, married Catherine Lubasin, and had eight children—one was killed in the Great Mohawk Valley Massacre; five fought in the American Revolution.
In time, Johannes’s great-grandson Jacob and his wife Elizabeth decided to move to Paris.
Paris, Ontario in, yes, you guessed it—Canada.
In 1838, Jacob’s son Walter and his young Canadian wife, Athelinda, set out to tame an open tract of land in Illinois. I quote, “The journey was done in Conestoga wagon and was taken in easy stages…The trip must have been a pleasant one [with] new country to be visited…”*
Well, now that’s all in one’s perspective, isn’t it?
Eventually, Walter’s brothers Andrew and George and their sister Elizabeth came. But, let’s be clear—
Life was hard.
Momence, Illinois, was uncivilized territory, occupied by Indian villages and renegade horse-thieving operations. There were no roads or towns.
Amidst days filled with grinding grain, weaving cloth, making candles, sewing clothes, tilling the land, praying for rain, harvesting, canning, cooking and more, Athelinda and Walter had eleven children.
Seven lived.
History records that Walter, one of the leaders of a local posse of men, was responsible for the arrest of a notorious counterfeiting horse thief. After spending a few years in prison, the thief returned vowing revenge on Walter.
Over the next 12 years, Walter had more than 50 horses poisoned, shot, mutilated, or stolen.
It was called survival.
Is it any wonder that, as you drive into Momence, Illinois, there is a historical marker sitting by the side of the road honoring Walter, Andrew, and George Hess?
One by one, Walter and Athelinda’s children left home. Their sixth son Mahlon married sixteen-year-old Sarah Ellen Lowe on May 1, 1870. One year later, she gave birth to a little girl named Amy.
For the next 26 years, Sarah Ellen gave birth to a baby, on average, every 21 months.
Which may explain her face in the picture below.
In my mind, these men and women were true heroes—
It’s easy to make heroes out of people we don’t know.
Much the same way that we, as children, often adore our parents. Then we get to know them, and begin to see the chinks in their armor.
My father passed away when I was 26. Now, I knew he wasn’t perfect, but he was a good man who loved his children. As daughters do, I forgave him his foibles and, after his death, forgot them pretty quickly.
However, I had revered my beautiful mother.
But I didn’t really “know” her. Over the next 35 years, that changed. And, guess what? She had many wonderful qualities, but…she was not perfect.
Sometimes that surprised me. Sometimes, to be honest, that disappointed me.
One day, it occurred to me that it takes a lot of grace to age well, and she did that. Until her last breath, God was working out the sanctification process in her life—and she was good with that.
We aren’t going to do life perfectly, either.
God knows, I have tried, and failed, to be the perfect hero. Thank God for failure—life is so much easier when you finally accept that, surprise of surprises, contrary to popular opinion, you aint’ “enough,” kiddo.
And neither were Johannes, Jacob, Walter, Athelinda, or Sarah. They got up each morning, they made choices, and sometimes they chose wrong.
40 years ago, I found the inspiration I needed to keep going by looking to heroes from my past. But, as time went on, even those courageous pioneers could not always motivate me.
Whether watching our castles burn, sailing across an unknown ocean, riding in a Conestoga wagon, losing a child in a massacre, or on a battlefield;
whether living through a revolution, a great depression, a war, a divorce, or a pandemic—
There is only one hero worth keeping our eyes on.
Only One who will continue to inspire us.
Yes, let’s look back and remember all of those who have gone before us and be inspired—not because they were perfect, but because they had the faith to not quit. Then, let’s go one step further and look to the One that enabled them to keep going.
Because, in the end, that’s the only way we are going to cross the finish line faithfully.
“Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses,
let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us,
and let us run with patience the race that is set before us,
Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith;
who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross,
despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
Hebrews 12:1-2
I love this reminder about keeping our focus on what really matters in the midst of difficulty. Difficulty comes in all shapes and sizes, how am I going to respond. Who or what will I let shape my expectations. God is the only author of those expectations and continually lovingly writing that future narrative! Thank you for this post Melissa.
Yes! I love that you mention how God is lovingly writing our future narrative. Together, we wait in faith.
Thank you . I am very proud of you. You let God use in marvelous ways. Taking time to write & research . Then sending the emails to the ones you have choose to do so. May God bless you & have a great week. 🦋❤️Karen Painter Kennedy
Thank you for your kind words, Karen, and for kneeling with me those many years ago as I gave my heart to Jesus. His grace is just poured all over us, isn’t it?
What a wonderful reminder that God is in control and how He should be the ultimate inspiration in are life.
And yet, it is so easy to get side-tracked and there goes our focus, right? Eyes on Jesus – that’s my goal.