I recently came across a journal entry from shortly after my dad died, and what I wrote was SO deep, profound, thought provoking that even now, thirteen years later, I found it worth remembering and worth mentioning again. On a different, but similar note, I recently heard a song by Tim McGraw and, even if you aren’t a country music fan, the song resonated with me and probably would you, as well. It’s worth a listen but is basically about living your life in a way that, when you die there’s standing room only at your funeral. Not that I care about the attention from people but I strive to live my life that way, everyday. I’d like to hope that when I’m gone people will have a lasting positive impression of me. Enjoy the blog post from 13+ years ago, below…
My head has been in a fog lately, with so many thoughts swimming around. I have had no idea where to begin with writing a blog post.
In retrospect, things I could not begin to comprehend are so clear now. Not getting certain jobs helped free me for when better opportunities came available, how jobs I did have helped prepare me for future adventures that have come my way, how “road construction” and “road closure ahead” signs helped tremendously to steer me towards the avenues I so desperately needed to locate but couldn’t seem to find on my own. Losses I have suffered have helped me discern meanings far too deep to understand at the time of adolescence just as much as victories have helped teach me how to win graciously. On the surface, even when we truly believe life is ending, it is just the seeds taking root and beginning a new life under the soil, which we cannot see at the time. Thomas Merton said “There is in all visible things…a hidden wholeness”. In a world so consumed with instant gratification and bigger equaling better (except for women’s bodies, which seem to always be painted as an emaciated picture of “beauty”) a large part of truth is hidden in plain sight, that we often choose not to acknowledge. Darkness and light, death and life, ugliness and beauty…these are not opposites but are instead a “hidden wholeness” that we need to hold hands and walk through life, together (Paraphrased from the book “There is a Season” which I came across recently and found so much goodness in).
So often we don’t want the seasons that are life. We want summer – when everything is alive, warm, and we are free to roam, explore and inhabit new places. We are not willing to accept the death and dormant activity that is winter. We want the blooms of spring, when new life appears and everything is new, but we don’t want the accompanying fall, when things change, people disappear, and it seems everything is old and decaying. Winter can be a demanding season, for which not everyone can adapt. Death seems victorious, but with winter happening, it can only mean one thing; Spring (life) is around the corner, bearing wonderful, beautiful gifts. Spring brings beauty, colors, the sounds of birds chirping, new baby’s cries of life, and the reminder that nothing ever stays the same. Just as nature isn’t dead in winter, but simply preparing the demands of spring and the preparations necessary to withstand all that is to be, we are to prepare for the next season of our life. We are not promised tomorrow… How are you preparing for the season in your life that is rapidly approaching?
Winter brings such great offerings: the abnormal clear sky, when, although it is cold outside, the sun is brilliantly shining, the snow has yet to fall and all is bare. It is representative of our human vulnerability. We are so afraid of baring our ALL that we fight to stay covered up. How are we supposed to grow into all we can be, without allowing our layers to be stripped away, exposing our bare “bark”? How do we attain the clarity we so desperately need, to see the changes that need to be made, in order for our next season to be better than the last?
Recently, the question was asked “What will your legacy be?” and “What do you WANT it to be?” My deepest desire when I am no longer here, is for people to know I loved deeply, remained a loyal friend to many, lived for the kids in my life, but above all, that people who truly knew me, knew my love for my Lord was the core of who I was. It is my most urgent desire and strongest passion, for everyone to become Christ followers and live their life to it’s fullest, for the honor and glory of God. Everyone is watching someone. What if someone is watching/admiring/looking up to you? If they pattern their life after you, will they become someone worth mentioning? I want to be worth mentioning.