A Hundred Years

“What difference will it make a hundred years from now?”

Well, let me tell you – it will make a big difference to those of us who are searching through census records a hundred – and more – years ago.

Columbiana county, Ohio in 1850 the census taker took some liberties with his handwriting. I’d much rather have had the lady who wrote the Jackson county, Oklahoma census in 1920. Now, there’s handwriting I appreciate for a number of reasons – clarity at the top of the list.

Back to Ohio, page 19, we have Mr. George, 48, (that’s right, the census taker didn’t get a first name) and his wife, Sue, 46. For anyone researching a George family, this is less than helpful; it is a stumbling block. On another page, there’s Gustavus Huff with son Gustuvus, or is that an ‘a’ too? And his wife Margt – would that be Margaret? Or the next son, Ges / Ger? And two more Huff girls in the same family named Margt? One thirteen, the other five months?

Oh, for clarity! Wouldn’t that be wonderful? There are similar difficulties in researching the Bible. There are controversies, interpretations, opinions, prophecies that divide rather than gather people together. Of course, there are others who find joy in these divisions.

The writings in question cover thousands of years, the last written not much less than two thousand years ago. Not all believed in the time they were written. Not all believe them today. I do, and I find peace and comfort in each of them. Strange, for some scriptures appear to hold no comfort at all. Job, for example. What comfort is there in the story of a man who lost everything? Well, when we believe he lost everything, we also believe it was returned to him twofold.

Except for his children, you say. I say differently. There were the ten with their Lord, and the ten born to him after his trials. As an aside, in genealogy research I’ve discovered in the early 1800’s a number of families with a Jemima and/or Keziah. I’ve often wondered if their father felt he was living the trials of Job.

The handwriting is no longer of concern to the writer. What will be of importance to me a hundred years from now is the decision to accept God’s unspeakable gift. I do look forward to leaving behind the dark glass and seeing face to face. I wonder now of the faces I may not see. I am grateful that uncertainty exists and I can imagine seeing them there, meeting beside the tree of Life and the flowing river of Life.

And he shewed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. (Revelation 22:1-2)

Truly, that’ll be the day!