Leaving a Legacy...

"Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, my God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your mighty acts to all who are to come." - Psalm 71:18

This past weekend, we took a very last-minute road trip to New Jersey for the funeral of Steve's grandfather, Kristian. It was a rough trip, lets be real. We drove straight through for 24 hours, spent less than 48 hours actually in New Jersey hugging family and doing various funeral tasks and attending services, and then drove 23 hours home. Exhausting, a little cranky, and my van smells like a locker room.

HOWEVER. I was so blessed to be able to witness the honoring of this man. I had only met him twice - he came out for our wedding, and only months later, we visited out east and he had the first of 12 strokes during that trip. We never saw him again. Steve has a few vivid childhood memories of him, playing checkers, helping him put a roof on a garage - he wasn't an overly engaging grandfather sort, but according to Steve it was evident that he enjoyed their presence. 

So what was the big deal, a relative stranger passing? Story after story was shared about the faith of this man (and his wife). He and his wife were selfless and sacrificial givers, living out their love for their Lord in a way that led others to Him. People are in Heaven greeting him because of his willingness to love when it wasn't socially acceptable and his eagerness to share his Jesus with others. This man died with great-grandchildren who are now being taught about Jesus because of the legacy that he began for his family. Four generations!

It moved me to tears. I was NOT raised that way, I do not come from that same legacy - but how powerful, how truly amazing is to see this being lived out. My husband is so blessed to have this faith legacy on both sides! And on our road trip home, I honestly just kept thinking, "poop! I am messing this up!". This legacy business has not been a priority in my home. We are so concerned with surviving the precious stages of the terrific 3s and fabulous 4s that all I want to do is nap, yell or cry some days! Where in me are they seeing that ALL THAT MATTERS in my life is my Jesus? 

They told us this weekend that as Kris continued to deteriorate with each stroke, his measurement was always the Lord's Prayer - if he started to feel funny, he would start to recite the prayer and if he could get through it, he knew he was fine, but oh, how frustrated he got when he could not recite the whole prayer! And I think - goodness, what is my measurement? I am pretty certain that my knee-jerk reaction right now would not be similar. When I hear about people having strokes, my thoughts are always - oh, but not being able to move half of my body? Or not being able to speak clearly? But his thoughts were whether or not he could recite the Lord's Prayer. Uff. 

Eleanor (his wife) stood up during one service and with complete confidence was able to tell us that her husband was rejoicing. And that she had her Lord to see her through. Faith that could move mountains. She talked about how they did devotions together. How they always said I love you. How confident she was in Heaven. And how proud she was to have 5 children who now shared her faith - and 17 grandchildren, and 8 great-grandchildren… This is the story I want to tell. 

At the end of the day, I want to be able to say that I lived my life for this reason - to love him and share that love with others. That ALL THAT MATTERED to me was Jesus. That someone else might be in Heaven because I was able to point them to Jesus. That the legacy of my family might look differently starting with my generation. I want to heed the words of the Bible (and it is repeated dozens of times in different phrasings!) to pass the teachings/commands/stories/praises on to my children and to their children and to their children. 

At the end of the day, it makes no eternal difference if I spent my day doing laundry and got them to clean their rooms but did not show them Jesus. Oh, Tami. Let go of the things that do not matter.