Living A Legacy Worth Leaving

A couple of weeks ago I attended the funeral of a colleague.  Her death was unexpected at the young age of 54. Listening to her husband tell the story of how they met, I found myself laughing as he recalled memories of hot rods and Southern California nights.

And then her daughter stood to speak – I was almost undone.

One of my great fears as a momma is that I will pass before my children are grown; before I see them settled in lives of their own.  But the other day, while sitting in that funeral home, I started to think about what my girls would say about me when I do die.

“Momma loved Jesus.”

“Momma loved Daddy.”

“Momma loved us.”

These are the things I hope they would say.  I hope they know without a doubt that their momma loved Jesus with all of her heart.  I hope they see in my actions and words just how much I loved their daddy and I hope they recall the embrace of my arms and the whispered “I love yous” long past day they can sit on my lap as I rock them at night.

I don’t want them to remember the tired and cranky momma with a short word for their tender heart.

I want them to remember the momma that was the builder of dreams and confidence; the encourager that reminded them every night that God created them for a unique purpose and that they should not settle for anything less than His best.

I don’t want them to remember the mom more focused on the cleanliness of the room than the state of their heart.

I want them to remember the mom that believed in serving others; the mom willing to love on and do life with all of His people with a joyful heart.

I don’t want them to remember the mom that saw picking up dirty socks and undies while tripping over stray Legos as somebody else’s responsibility.

Mommas, in all of this I am convicted.  The only way my children are going to have the memories I want them to have is if I live the kind of life that lends itself to them.

We will have “off” days; but am I as purposeful with my words and actions as I could be? As I am with my colleagues or those littles I lead on Sunday morning?  I don’t have to think long about my answers – I know the truth.

But today is a new day and there is time to do and say a new thing.

There is time for new memories.