Remembering
God is the god of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob (Exodus 3:6). He wants to create a family heritage. The blessing on as man like Abraham is worked out in the following generations. Each generation should have greater anointing and wisdom that those that follow. The million people that marched from Egypt to Canaan were called the Children of Israel. They were Jacob’s family line. That was Jacob’s heritage.
Abortion is terrible. A baby with its whole life ahead of it dies. However, it is worse than that. The family heritage of the dead baby is lost to the world. The blessing that would have come through the baby’s descendants are lost forever.
War has the same effect.
My uncle was killed in Italy during the second world war. My grandmother was promised that he would not be forgotten, because he gave his life for his country, but that is a distortion of the truth. (He is largely forgotten already, and when my generation dies, he will be totally forgotten). He did not just give his life. His family line was cut off.
My father who did not have to go to war has died of old age. He left behind six children and thirteen grandchildren. Now his great grandchildren are arriving. His family includes many followers of Jesus. His descendants are having an influence in the world.
I wonder what my Uncles family heritage would have been, if he had not been robbed. He was a kind, gentle, honest man. He might have twenty to thirty descendants by now. Many would be serving the Lord. Some would be pastors. Others would have had an impact on their culture. The world has lost this blessing because his family was cut off, before it began.
For the generals, he was just another casualty, a number to be added to the lists. From God’s perspective, a family line that he began before the foundation of the world was lost.
The politicians promised that those who had their lives taken would not be forgotten. But that was a lie. Most of the people who knew them are already dead. When the current generation dies, their personality and character is forgotten. Memory is more than a name on a stone on side of the road at the top of a hill or a set of medals in a drawer.