"Gird up your loins, fresh courage take "
Courage is derived from the Middle English word ‘corage,’ which is the old French equivalent to ‘cuer,’ which comes from the Latin ‘cor,’ all of which mean ‘heart.’ At its very beginnings courage comes from the heart, and even today it still holds that connotation. For hundreds of years it has been believed that the heart contains ones innermost and strongest feelings. Therefore, someone who has courage, or is courageous, developed that from deep within themselves. From feelings and emotions that run to their very core. This is why those that are courageous are nearly impossible to break or hold down. The strength comes from too deep to be easily shaken. -- Kat Michels
Isn't that beautiful?? This is why I love words SO much. I like to think that finding and using the exact right word amplifies the power of whatever message is being conveyed.
For our poster this year, I wanted to incorporate and combine the various symbols of courage I found in my study. From the color red, to the lions, to the crowns, to the heart -- everything in this coat of arms should project the meaning of courage! (Or at least I hope that's the case. Hahaha.) This message, along with the rest of our "Wall of Courage," will hopefully be seared into our collective pysches by the time the school year is over.
So there you have it -- Fresh Courage Take! Each month, we're focusing on a different aspect of courage and sharing stories and examples to go along with it for our Wall. Last month, "Courage is standing up for what is right" was the focus and this month we're pivoting to "Courage is facing challenges or trials with faith." I want to close tonight with a family history story I shared with the kids last week about an ancestor of ours who faced extraordinary challenges and trials with faith.
I found this beautiful painting by Julie Rogers called, "I Asked God's Help" on familysearch.org. It portrays the following story about my great-great-great-great-grandmother, Ann Rowley.
Ann Jewell Rowley was a member of the infamous Willie Handcart Company of pioneers. Along with the Martin Handcart Company, these men, women, and children had already traveled all the way from England and were eager to get on with the final leg of their journey to Utah. The companies left much later in the season than others had and it wasn't long before calamity and misfortune struck in the fall of 1856. Ann, her children, and fellow travelers were slowed by heavy snow and weighed down with exhaustion, starvation, and exposure to the elements. The harsh reality of their trek would leave 60-70 Saints buried along the trail before the company was rescued and they finally entered the Salt Lake Valley. Here is a portion of Ann's story in her own words:
When we were well into the wilderness, we noticed a storm approaching from the southwest. The terrifying thing was not a storm, but a large herd of buffalo stampeding right past our camp. Afterward, I thanked the Lord that our lives had been spared, for we all could have been killed. As it was, we lost 30 head of our best oxen. They were swept away by the buffalo. The men hunted for them but had to give it up. This was the beginning of our great hardships and probably was the cause of most of them, for we had spent valuable time looking for the oxen. This loss in turn, reduced our meat supply and because there weren't enough cattle to pull the supply wagon, a hundred pounds of flour was placed in each handcart.
Our handcarts were not designed for such heavy loads and we were constantly breaking down. They had been made of green lumber and were affected by the weather. Rawhide strips were used to wrap the iron rims to the wheels and the wood would shrink and the rawhide would come loose. It hurt me to see my children go hungry. I watched as they cut the loose rawhide from the cart wheels, roasted off the hair and chewed the hide.
There came a time, when there seemed to be no food at all. Some of the men left to hunt buffalo. Night was coming and there was no food for the evening meal. I asked God's help as I always did. I got on my knees, remembering two hard sea biscuits that were still in my trunk. They had been left over from the sea voyage, they were not large, and were so hard, they couldn't be broken. Surely that was not enough to feed 8 people, but 5 loaves and 2 fishes were not enough to feed 5000 people either, but through a miracle, Jesus had done it. So, with God's help, nothing is impossible. I found the biscuits and put them in a Dutch oven and covered them with water and asked for God's blessing, then I put the lid on the pan and set it on the coals. When I took off the lid a little later, I found the pan filled with food. I kneeled with my family and thanked God for his goodness. That night my family had sufficient food.
I am grateful for the legacy of faith and courage that I've been blessed with -- not just from my great-great-great-great-grandmother, but from men and women of strength in every generation on both sides of my family tree. I hope that each of us in this household can take courage from their examples and face the world and the future with faith and hope.
