Suddenly the week is gone (and I didn’t exactly tear up with the four times a day updates – but I’ve been busy).
I’ve been thinking about legacy. When my bones mix into the dust of the earth what memories or stories that grow and endure the weather? I’ve not yet written that great novel which will be read and analyzed by scores of historians. I’ve not discovered the cure for cancer which save the lives of millions. I’ve not created a masterpiece of art that will hang in gallery walls for generations. My life has touched only the depth of my breath – the span of my arms. All that I have that will last is my blood.
Perhaps it’s the greater (greatest) enduring legacy one can have – the legacy of a strong family lineage and instilling the potential of skilled writers, brilliant physicians, talented artists. I can neither make or create time nor form my own pattern to history, but I can give my children love that passes understanding, grace that comes from God, and truth of the saving faith of Jesus Christ — equipment enough to eclipse the limited span of my life.