Reflecting

I have been thinking about heaven lately as I recently turned 55 - the same age that my mom was when she was told she had breast cancer. These “milestone dates” have a way of bringing me to reflection. If genetics is the only thing I have to go by, my (earthly) time may be short. The Lord called my sweet mom home just two years after diagnosis at the young age of 57 and my father died at 66. I think about my mom processing her homegoing at such a young age. I know there were stories she wanted to tell her grandchildren, birthday cards in her beautiful handwriting she was planning to send and major life events she longed to experience. She knew she wouldn’t be there for the graduations, the weddings and the birth of great grandchildren. She most likely pondered if she’d be remembered and what she would leave behind.

While Bill and I were on vacation, we walked into a gift shop that was going out of business. It was such a cute place and I expressed my sadness to the owner and asked why he had to close. He said that business had been waning for some time as the younger generation was no longer interested in the items he carried in the store but valued experiences over things. He pointed out that several of the resale shops in the area were overloaded with china, glassware, and décor that wasn’t selling, even at greatly reduced prices. This got Bill and I thinking about all the “stuff” we had accumulated during three decades of marriage. At the same time, one of our friends had just finished cleaning out her parent’s house after her mom passed away. We talked on the phone about the burden of getting rid of everything that was left after family members took all they wanted. 

I returned from vacation motivated and began going through each room of the house one-by-one tossing the “I may need this someday” items and setting aside things I didn’t “love” in a spare room for donation. Upon coming to the room where my mom’s photo albums and high school yearbooks are stored, my motivation came to a standstill. Who will want these pictures of memories that aren’t theirs, full of people they don’t know? I know what to do with the jade necklace her dad gave her and the ceramic Christmas tree she painted that is put up every year without fail, but I don’t know what to do with the albums and yearbooks. Seriously, she looks so cute in her sweater, skirt and pearls posing for the high school class picture. In that moment the thought of the items going in the trash and recycle bins seemed so cruel. How could these things just be thrown away?

It’s also in that moment that the Lord sweetly comforts me. Even though I’m smiling while looking at the pictures and the books, I realize that these things are just a captured moment in time and will not remain.

She left something so much more valuable, she left a legacy of Christ to her only child. Her love of Scripture, her reliance on prayer, her gracious words, her love of people and the way she served others so well is what I remember. She was a beautiful, although not perfect, reflection of Christ. 

I hope that my children will remember my love for Christ and what He has done for me. I pray that they will continue to walk with the Lord and will model these things in their homes with their children. I pray that the Lord will keep me faithful to Him and that my precious grandkids will see my love for the Word; that I would be diligent to pray that they would come to know Him, and that I would model my reliance on Him by praying with and for them. I pray that they will find my speech gracious and full of praise to the One who made heaven and earth. May I show them Jesus and continue the legacy that began with my mom.

Someday, hopefully a long time from now, my kids will come upon my yearbooks and pictures and wonder what to do with them. I hope that the Lord meets them in that moment, and they are encouraged and challenged to continue the legacy of Christ in our family that began with their grandma. Zach, Julianna and Tyler, I give you permission to be free from the burden of my things – may you remember Christ above everything else. Also, if I don’t get to it before you, please make sure that the 8th grade picture of me that was taken three days after a really bad perm gets destroyed and is never seen again.