Live Your Legacy

 

On my desk, draped over my printer, are two scraps of denim. I cut them from a twenty-year-old pair of jeans that were faded and frayed in just the right places. Perfect. Until a hole ripped wide open and exposed my chicken knee to the winter cold.

They’re now my favorite summer cut-offs. But what to do with these darn denim pieces?  I can’t throw them away. I tried. First, in the trash and then I tossed them into the bottom of my hamper where they sat for months.

Grief is weird, isn’t it?

It’s almost a year since my mom passed. While it’s still hard to look at her picture, my senses are wide open to her legacy. It’s quite simple and organic. And that’s where she sneaks up on me.

Like last week, when I used a spoon to get out bits of eggshells. When fruit flies flocked to my bananas and I mixed their death potion: water, dish soap, and apple cider vinegar. In summer recipes for cole slaw and potato salad and fall cooking of soups and apple crisp. And especially in our favorite guilty pleasure: the tater tot casserole Mom always took to our high school sports banquets.

So, a legacy lingers.

And I smile at how much we learn by osmosis.

This interweaving with people doesn’t just end. Especially with our parents. The connection started before we were born. It’s a beautiful mystery, isn’t it? Not just flesh and bone, but soul and spirit.

It makes sense that pain jabs the pit of our stomach. When we see a picture or hear a song or smell a smell. But, beside that ache, we sense something even more real and present: God is there. Wooing us and wanting us to trust His comfort:

My Child, I’ve got you. Rest. Feel. Grow. Pass it on.

So, what about these scraps of denim? I see Mom at her sewing machine transforming worn out jeans into cool stuff. Quilts and hats, overalls and purses. Whether in the kitchen, the garden, or at the dining room table, she was always mixing, painting, gluing, and growing something.

And I’m inspired to not just leave a legacy, but to create one. With intention. To live it out loud, right now.

Because now I see life more fleeting. More lovely. More difficult. More urgent.

I want to build a legacy and leave an inheritance that’s simple, ordinary, profound. Rooted in love and service and selflessness. One that sneaks up on people at just the right moment and makes them smile.

So, let’s invite Jesus into the ache before we sink too far into sadness or regret and wishing things were different. His earthly life shows us how to live and grow this paradox: To use our pain for good purpose.

“Living your legacy is … about showing up for your life, engaging in deeper, more meaningful ways, and making a difference.” *

May we love well and live now. 

Peace for your journey.

☮💕🖖🙏

 

*Author Sharon Olson, Living Your Legacy

Photo from http://pixabay,com