Generations
It was a somber moment. Standing at the edge of the beach where it is believed that my great grandfather’s first wife walked into the ocean, never to return. She took her life, the life of their unborn child and in some ways the life of my great grandfather. Everything would change. Forever. For him and for generations to come. This tragedy triggered a series of decisions that ultimately lead my great grandfather to leave Norway for a new life in America. The unexpected loss of his wife wasn’t the only reason for the move, for life in Norway was a bleak situation for many at that time. However, her loss can be seen as the final catalyst that sent him on the journey across the Atlantic in search of a “new life”. When boarding the boat, I can only imagine what was going through his mind. Would he find happiness? Peace? Companionship? Work? So many unknowns where on the horizon. In many ways, America represented a new chapter in life, career, relationships and more. Ultimately, in the end he found many of these things, but it came at a cost.
To stay in America meant that he would hand over his inheritance of the family farm to his sister. Additionally, while in America, my great grandfather remarried and had a daughter, my grandmother. For that I’m deeply grateful; for the gift of life that I get to experience. Life springing out to tragedy! Amazing! However, big questions still remained. It appears that he fled to America because of his loss? Is that true? Did my great grandfather heal from this tragedy? If so, how? Did the generations to follow know of this difficult past? If they did, what tools, wisdom or wounding were passed down the line?
As a child I knew very little about the Norwegian branch of the family tree. Let alone the story that was revealed to me some months ago. I have a vivid memory from my childhood asking my grandmother about our family history for a school project and I left that visit confused and disappointed because she shared virtually nothing about the past. In retrospect I can conclude that either, she really didn’t know anything, or that the past was too painful and difficult for her to share with me. Nevertheless, as the story unfolds, I’m getting a clearer picture to how and why this side of my family has struggled with nagging generational patterns.
As you can imagine, coming back to the family farm in April was filled with excitement and anticipation. After our visit last August, there were so many questions and details that still hung in the air. I prayed that God’s divine hand would guide us and he did not disappoint. The time on the island of Valderøy was rich with stories, meals, memories, and more. As we shared life together the gates of connection and conversation were flung wide open. Both sides of the family began to get a deeper understanding of who our family was and is. One story led to the next and I began to see the that my family/life story was not that different than that of my Norwegian cousins. Crazy!
Both sides of the family have struggled with what I would consider generational dysfunction that seem to plague each successive branch of the family tree. Be it fear, insecurity, infidelity, narcissism, substance abuse, or divorce, both families have seen lives cut short, inheritances squandered and trust broken. The similarities were too profound to ignore. With so many “coincidences” in our respective stories, one can hardly chalk it up to ‘chance’.
As the weekend progressed it became very clear that something must change.
But how?
Now, back to the beach…. With my children in earshot, exploring the natural wonders that abound, I could feel a swirl of emotions as I stood on those rocks. A place of joy and tragedy. A place of life and death. A place of blessing and of a curse. I stood on the place that changed everything for my Norwegian family and mine. So, I laid my hands on the very stones that my great grandfather would have explored, played with and skipped into the ocean, and prayed. I prayed for life and blessing. I prayed that the curse of death and destruction would break. I prayed that it “ALL STOPS NOW”! I silently declared that a new shoot will rise. That a new family legacy will grow. That new fruit will produce from this land!
“Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments.” – Deuteronomy 7:9
Later that same day we were invited to visit a small museum displaying life on the island of Valderøya. As we perused old black and white photos and artifacts highlighting the farming and fishing heritage, my cousin’s father stopped at a photo collage of families living on the island around the turn of the 20th century. One interesting detail that he showed us was the address associated with the family farm. The number was different than all of the rest. He continued saying “This number is important. It tells you that they owned their farm. You see here? Look at all of the other pictures. The address numbers are the same. These people worked and lived here, but those families didn’t own the land. These people didn’t own their farms.”
Later that evening my cousin shared with me that an old journal from a powerful sea captain from the Netherlands, who was charting the islands around Valderøya, was discovered. Something very interesting jumped off of the pages as she inspected the document. Before her very eyes was a drawing of the family farm. House and all. And the captain had drawn a symbol on the house indicating that he desired to take possession of the farm. She then reminded us that during WW2 the Nazis wanted to occupy the farm for its strategic location on the waterway (thankfully the war ended before that happened). Additionally, some years back, the family had a strange looking mound on the land undergo an archeological excavation. As they explored, archeologists discovered that this was no ordinary mound. The unearthed artifacts showed that it was burial site for a powerful Viking leader or king . They are now on display in a national museum in Bergen.
Each of these stories began to knit together a simple message in the middle of a complex and interesting history. The original design of my Norwegian family line is not one of brokenness, but a lineage of legacy, position and influence. My Norwegian roots are steeped in blessing, prominence, status, and abundance. A family that had what many others desired. A much different picture of the one painted for me since my great grandfather arrived in America in the early 1900s.
“…If my people who are called by My Name, will name humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.”
-2 Chronicles 7:14
As the weekend progressed, I could sense my heart welling up with vision to stand firm and advocate for a renewal our legacy. To encourage my cousins to do the same. Not only for my family, but for all of those who are rooted in my Norwegian family tree. For what happened in the past need not to enslave future generations. I pray that we embrace a different reality. That we say “NO” to brokenness, heartache, depression, loss and more. That we say “YES” to wholeness and enjoy the fruit of a life filled with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galations 5:22-23). We shall live lives of sweet abundance, ushering in generational blessing that is bound to impact many generations to come!
“For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.”
– Psalm 100:5
