Our words matter, yeah? So how can we use them to leave a legacy? Scripture calls us to share what God has done in our lives with the next generation, to tell the stories of God’s mighty acts {Psalm 145:4}, so this month we’re going to come together each Wednesday to talk about legacy.
We’ll talk about the lessons learned from our mothers and grandmothers, the important role women play in leaving these legacies, and how we’re choosing share our God-stories with the next generation — something we’re all called to do. And each week we’ll share a Community Challenge to do together as we work through “The Courage to Leave a Legacy,” so be sure to read all the way to the end and join us in the comments!
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Around this time last year I spent a few hours in the southern Indiana town where I grew up. I went alone to do some thinking and some remembering. Some things you just need to get out of your system.
As I pulled into town, every intersection had a landmark I recognized but a street name I didn’t. Even though the town is a fraction of the size of the town where I now live, I couldn’t navigate the roads without my phone for directions.
It was maddening, recognizing that stone house on the corner and that water tower over there, but not knowing exactly how to get to the library. But these were the sorts of things I expected. We moved away from here before I could drive so I never learned my way around.
What I didn’t expect was at every turn, at every familiarity, I thought of my mom.
It wasn’t a particular memory, like oh, there’s where she taught me to finger paint! or that’s where we went out to that fancy restaurant and laughed about all the funny things!
Maybe memory montages happen that way in the movies, but I didn’t have many specific memories of anything as I drove to our old house, to the parking lot of the grocery store, to the elementary school where I learned to read. Instead, it was more like a blanket of memory, singular.
It was simply a familiar cloud of an old life brought near but not quite, like a foggy trail of beauty I could feel but not touch.
I kept picturing Mom, younger than I am now, just being our mom. Everywhere I went, I imagined that Mom was close by and I needed to go on home to her. Her presence was a deeply safe place for me as a girl, something I’m not sure I realized until this trip.
It’s not because she mothered us like some kind of superhero. She didn’t. But she was there, she was with us, she loved us, and I knew it.
Wandering through these familiar streets reminded me of what it means to mother well.
Now that I have three of my own, I realize fancy is great, but it’s probably not what they’ll remember.
As a mother, that’s encouraging news, especially on the days when it seems like you can’t quite get it right.
But it’s encouraging in other ways as well, specifically for me as a writer. In the same way a mom mothers her kids, we mother the generation coming up behind us. The way I do that is through words — the ones I write here, on my own blog, in my books, and even in my private journals my kids and their kids might read once I’m gone.
You have your own ways of mothering and caring for others, your own personal expression of Jesus displayed through your unique personality, talents, and inclinations.
We are all leaving a trail of beauty for those who come behind us.
Thinking of this kind of legacy can be overwhelming if we let it.
Let’s don’t let it.
Because remember, the gifts they will remember aren’t the kind that come in pretty wrapping or fancy bows. In my experience, the gift that others most treasure is when I give the gift of myself.
Let’s be women who leave a legacy of presence that feels deeply safe for others — through the words we write, the art we make, the hands we hold, and the life we live.
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Community Challenge: Let’s pray this week and ask God to show us how we can be a gift to someone else — how He would have us create safe spaces for others with our presence, and the unique gifts and talents He’s given us!
Catch up on the rest of the series!
Emily,
I like how you describe your memories as not being so much a montage of vignettes, but instead more of a blanket of safety that envelopes you. I like that image and I realize that my mother created that for me…that will be her legacy…and I so pray that I have provided that for my children. Carrying that image and that goal with me today and in the days ahead. Thank you for a beautiful word picture this morning!
Bev
Bev
You’re welcome, Bev. I’m glad to know that resonates.
Wow the timing of this is interesting. I took out a box of candle making supplies last night to “make” with my daughter. In it was a note from my mum, from when she had gone away one time. It simply said I’ll miss you, I love you and I’m proud of you. It made me cry (she died 19 years ago). But I felt her love nonetheless. I also found a handmade “birth certificate” for a bear some friends had given me as a teenanger. Random surprises. I hope to do the same for my girls.
Random surprises indeed. That’s lovely, Anna.
Love the whole concept of “creating safe spaces for souls to breathe.” I’m thinking of two specific women who opened their homes to me over and over and over again. As a twenty-something, single, brand new Christian woman, they let me watch their lives. Because of them, I became the woman I am today. Now, it is my turn. Time to let young women sit around my table and feel safe enough to be and to grow. Beautiful, Emily, simply beautiful!
I love that, Janell! It really isn’t as complicated as I sometimes try to make it – simply being present and available goes a really long way.
Oh, I totally get that….I always complicated things…..with three 20-somethings now, I realize how my “presence” is still what they love the most……oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they love the “presents,” but my presence is far more valuable at this stage of their lives. This past June I had a serious surgery and it ruffled their feathers in a way I didn’t expect……sometimes we don’t appreciate what we have until it isn’t “available” or “present.” Keep writing Emily!!!!!
So beautifully written, Emily. Sometimes we need to remember that that it’s our children that our legacy matters most to. 🙂 Thank you for reminding me of this.
This is wonderful. Remembering the legacy my Mother has left but needing the reminder that I need to leave the same legacy for my two children.
My mother is 81 years old. My older brother and his wife visit her every Sunday evening for popcorn and grape juice. He recently sent a message to his three sisters that when they entered her aprtment she was quietly singing hymns to herself. Oh the memories. She was always humming or singing hymns as she did housework, cooked, rocked us in her chair. That is a legacy!
Emily,
Such a sweet post! It was nice that you had memories of safety that enveloped you during that trip! I don’t have any children, but I want to leave a Godly, loving legacy to the people around me. To that end I visit my aging dad twice a week in the assisted living. I do small acts of kindness for friends and hubby. I want to shower them with Christ’s love. Soon I will bake some bread for new neighbors just moving in down the street.
Blessings 🙂
Thanks for linking to this from your blog. Leaving a legacy of words as a writer also makes me more aware how much the words I say out loud have an impact as well. My failings are part of that trail, too, but hopefully they serve as testaments to God’s redemptive work.
Emily,
I loved your final words: “In my experience, the gift that others most treasure is when I give the gift of myself.” I have recently been struggling with how I can leave a legacy…and I’m only twenty years old. I love this statement you made because it shows me that I need to continue letting go of trying hard, and instead simply be myself. Thank you for those words of encouragement.