Legacy

This is my first post in quite some while because every time I've gone to write one, either I've been interrupted or my itching fingers could not find the right keys to type. If you've been victimized before by one of my mindless rants or over-tired outbursts, you know I'm rarely speechless. But I've resolved not to let this blog become an outlet for either of those.

Recently, on my 14th anniversary, Grandpa's body fell permanently to sleep and he found the freedom he's sought since Grandma's passing. Upon first seeing his lifeless body in the casket, Dad commented, "That's the most peaceful I've seen him look in a long time. You're not going to suffer anymore, Daddy." When people tell me that they're sorry to hear of his passing, I think, They just don't understand. In his final days, septic and already oblivious to the world around him, Grandpa had, in our eyes, already gone. Yet still he suffered. He's home now, and at peace. Thank God for His mercy. That's how I see it. The day we laid his body to rest was one of rejoicing over his full, fruitful life and lasting, meaningful legacy.

This leaves me wondering: "What have I done to honor that legacy?" When examining my children, would they be confident in their success as parents, to have produced in the third generation down, these precious ones I've birthed and begun raising? Have I, in my daily goals, routines, habits, projects and ambitions, honored all they sacrificed to offer me? How short I fall. I can't stop there. The next logical step for me is to question deeper. What have I done to honor the legacy of eternal life, of wisdom, love, understanding and freedom that my heavenly Father has given me? Even shorter yet I fall.

Lately, that moment by moment presence of God, goading me on has so shined in my life as to cast in nearly unbearable, stark light how much darkness still remains in me. How much work must be done to cleanse away the filth left over from years of neglect. And me, without excuse for why this was not done years ago. What a rotten time to start getting round to it. So much going on, so many directions possible, so many responsibilities and distractions calling for my focus, tearing me away from the never-ending task of cleaning up the monstrous mess within. But every time I bite my tongue rather than gossip or lash out, every instant in which I speak softly, patiently and kindly whilst boiling inside, and each underlined verse of Scripture that reveals a vital, soul-altering truth to me, infuses me with hope.

Nearly into the wee beginnings of Saturday, in my green pajamas, I try a third time to write this and hope to send it out and inspire, at the least, myself to honor the life I've been gifted with. Blessings,

V