Lately legacy has been on my mind. Literally the word’s primary definition is “a gift by will of money and property” (Merriam Webster Dictionary). But legacy’s concept reaches beyond into the intangibles taught and experienced within a family—love, loyalty, faith, pain, indecision, apathy. . . We can fill in more blanks, can’t we?
Having one adorably cute, soon-to-be two-year-old granddaughter with two other grandchildren on the way, I feel God’s incredible blessing along with the responsibility to pass on a legacy of faith and love.
But it’s difficult to do on Face Time. When I was growing up, both sets of grandparents lived within five miles of our home. We knew my mother’s parents better because Granny made herself more available and needed more of our help since our grandfather was crippled by a stroke. Dad’s parents milked cows, gathered eggs, and took care of 100 acres until they wore out. Long distance love wasn’t an issue. We often spent Sundays together and witnessed how each lived out their lives.
Both sets of grandparents modeled faith in Jesus Christ and a strong work ethic. My parents carried that onward. My prayer this morning is that my husband and I can roll that legacy forward, too.
By no accident through the Holy Spirit’s guidance, today’s devotional verse is:
“Those who are planted in the house of the LORD shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall still bear fruit in old age; they shall be fresh and flourishing, to declare that the LORD is upright.” Psalm 92:13-15
Thank you, Jesus, for your saving grace and faith legacy that we can pass on to those we love, fresh and flourishing even in our old age.
Yesterday afternoon Al and I visited a dear Christian woman who had recently discovered no more medical treatment could treat her cancer. Hospice is her new reality. Yet, in the few minutes we chatted, prayed, and held her hands, she radiated God’s peace. She knew beyond any doubt her final resting place is not a realm of nothingness. Eternity with Jesus Christ and his saints await her.
Spending time with her reminded me of when, as a child, I wanted Jesus in my heart and life and decided to accept God’s free gift of salvation through his death, burial and resurrection. Yet I remember coming to Jesus out of fear.
If memory serves me correctly, I was a child who was afraid of a lot of things—the unknown; the dark; shadows made by car lights infiltrating my bedroom—the only one facing the highway. The Wizard of Oz and the Wicked Witch of the West scared me so much I spent most of the movie wrapped in gray and chartreuse floral floor-length curtains, occasionally peeking out to catch glimpses of Scarecrow, Dorothy, and Tin Man.
Fast forward life. I’m living my seventh decade. Jesus is not simply my gateway from fear and passport out of hell into heaven. My Savior has become real and personal through prayer and meditation, other people and life circumstances. Amazingly, I’m rarely afraid unless random thoughts creep in regarding my family’s safety. Fortunately I’ve learned to pray those away, giving them to God whom I know loves them more than I do.
Still, when it’s my turn to die (and yes, our finite bodies do indeed experience death no matter how many green smoothies we drink), I know Jesus will be there to comfort and guide me through “the valley of the shadow of death where I will fear no evil.” I’ve witnessed that confidence in both the living and dying.
Yesterday I saw that same assurance in my Christian sister’s eyes.
In faith, fear cannot reign.