Legacy

A year ago this week, we were in mourning.

On May 25, my mother-in-law went from worshipping in this life to worshipping in the next. Her praise on earth poured out in full, we could only imagine what that moment was like when she stood before Jesus to hear Him say, "Well Done".

The next days were filled with family and friends, with planning and details. Yet in a way, the world stood still. It's one of those times when you know what really matters, and it's usually not something on your list.

My mother-in-law didn't want a funeral - she wanted a Coronation Celebration. And boy, did she ever get it. We had a grand worship service and memorial of her life. I've never seen anything like it - but God was glorified in the very unorthodox way she wanted us to remember her.

After her death, we sought intentionally not to grieve "without hope", but we still grieved. We faced times when we started to make a call that we couldn't make. We still think of things "Mom would know".

But most importantly, we have learned the true meaning of "legacy". It's not something you can plan. It sounds profound, and many people try to sit down and think of the "legacy" they want to leave. Let me tell you this: You can't. The legacy you will leave is being written on the hearts of those closest to you, those in your sphere of influence, and those you seek to serve. It's the message of your life.

Mom's basic life message can be reflected in the prayer she prayed less than two weeks before her Homegoing. It was the last prayer I heard her pray aloud.

Mom was in a long-term acute care hospital - it was about the 85th day out of 90 that she'd been in some hospital or another, with countless progresses and setbacks. A dear family friend - the kind more family than friend - came by to see her. Before she left, she asked if we could pray. Mom never turned down a chance to pray with others, and so the three of us clasped hands. Beth and I prayed heartfelt prayers, but to this day I can't tell you what we said. Because Mom's simple, one-sentence prayer rings in my ears: "Lord, cause me to be a blessing to someone today."

That certainly defined Mom's life. She was a blessing even in the hospital - kind to the nurses right up to the end, always loving and gentle with her family. But when we were looking for photographs for the PowerPoint before the service, I realized just how much that prayer defined her life. We found pictures of her with kids no one could identify - some of the many "strays" she took in over the years. Months later friends who didn't come to the service told me stories of her impact on their lives. The prayer I heard may have been the last she verbalized, but it reflected a life lived in blessing others.

What a legacy! She had no idea, I'm sure, that her simple prayer would be such a defining moment for me. And if it hadn't lined up with her life, it wouldn't have. But the words and the works were consistent, and the legacy was solidified.

No matter what I face in a day, I often remind myself of Mom's prayer. I fully believe that we are "blessed to be a blessing". My challenge is the outworking of that into action. And so the prayer, "Cause me to be a blessing to someone today, Lord," is becoming part of my daily quiet time. And so it goes - legacy.

You want to make a difference where you are, or you wouldn't be there. In your own way you desire a legacy. Remember the lessons I learned in grief: Legacy isn't something you determine. It's a reflection of who you are - a reflection that shines beyond the grave and teaches those who follow.