Are you ready to travel home with me? Remember.I arrived home with thousands of family photos just waiting to be identified, labeled, organized, and placed into albums for the sake of 'family legacy'.ugh. Where do I begin? For starters I need to at least get the pictures out of the van. (However, we borrowed the van from Beth and Brian.maybe I should have left the pictures in the van, and THEY could have taken on this project. Beth is capable of coming up with some very fun captions!!) Well, the pictures came out and immediately went down to my basement. I placed them in a well organized pile.out of the way.because I really didn't know if or when I would even attempt this 'labor of love'. I actually surprised myself by digging into it right away. My one big organized pile became many littler semi-organized piles as I sorted and tossed.sorted and tossed. Time passed so quickly, and I found myself so absorbed in both the task and in my past.not just my past with my nuclear family of origin, but the past of my aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, friends.wow. As I looked through photos, I remembered the sounds of voices and laughter; the sweet scents of individuals; even the movements unique to each person. I became aware of my pattern of sorting. I found myself examining each person in each picture to find the best representation of that person and event. I wanted to keep the pictures that made the people in them look their best. I looked at the backgrounds in each picture. Which were the most flattering?

I remember coming across pictures of one Christmas in my Grandma's home. I was shocked by what I saw. Was it the Christmas decorations? Was it yet another Christmas miracle? The inside of the house looked amazing and clean! You've got to know.my grandmother was one of the sweetest, nicest, most beautiful women I have ever known. Even my dad says she was the best person he had ever met.and he was describing his mother-in-law!! However, housekeeping was not her gift.cooking, baking, taking care of people.that was what she was all about. So when I saw these pictures, I was delighted. Her home looked so beautiful.just like my grandma. I kept those pictures.

So, in my method of sorting and choosing pictures, am I in denial? Am I only keeping the best because I don't want to think about the worst? Am I attempting to re-create memories to be much more amiable and palatable? Do I sound like the writer of Chronicles? Oh yes.back to the books of Chronicles. God inspired the writer of Chronicles to write to the nation of Israel to remind the people of just where their help and hope comes from.God Himself. Remember my comments about the deeds of Kings David and Solomon? I don't believe the writer left out their 'indiscretions' (SIN!!) because he was in denial or because of any negative motive. No, I believe the writer intentionally focused on the positive attributes of David and Solomon because he knew that God had chosen and anointed them to be kings, and the Chronicles were 'articles' that were passed down throughout the generations to be read as a legacy for future generations. The writer's words are words of HONOR and DIGNITY, HOPE and HELP. The writer chose to HONOR these men chosen by God instead of airing their 'dirty laundry' for future generations to ponder each time they would pick up their copy of the Chronicles to read.

Somewhere along the way, during my reading of the Chronicles and my sorting of family photos, I made this cool connection. No matter how many dysfunctions my family may have been 'blessed' with, I am truly blessed to be a part of it all, and a part of them. I am blessed that God has allowed me to see each of them as 'chosen' by Him. As I have gazed at each picture, I have fallen in love all over again with my extended family. No matter what, I will choose to honor them with each chosen picture. I want to join the writer of the Chronicles when passing something on as a legacy. I will do so with the intent of honoring one another.

Thanks for traveling with me.both through a bit of the Chronicles and down a bit of my family's memory lane.

Thanks for reading,

Libby

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