We are painting our house – I have to say, I love the color – a deep, brick / barn red. The folks who previously owned the home stopped by the other day and I asked them what they thought of the new paint job.
I was saddened that they didn't like it. They didn't say so directly, but it was pretty obvious.
I wonder if part of the reason they weren't so keen on it is that it was one more erasure of the years they had spent here. They lived on the property for almost 50 years and raised 4 kids in this house. Ruth wandered around the yard, interested in what plants were still there that she had chosen years ago. There is an old barn toward the back of the lot that was the original homesteading cabin, circa 1886 ish. Russ, the previous owner, knew the names of the original folks and said, "Oh, the stories that cabin could tell …" I wished he had had time to relay them to me.
We all want our time on this planet to matter. We want to leave something lasting.
As the new replaces what used to be, there is some sadness and then comes the question of "Will I be remembered?" I think we fool ourselves if we don't think that this is important to us.
Do you know what you are trying to leave? Because what you leave really starts today. And everyday from this day forward. These thoughts cause me to reflect on my attitudes and actions. Because five years from when you are dead, mostly people remember the big strokes. He was generous. She was naggy. He was angry all the time. She was creative.
I need to smile more. Laugh more. Hug more. I want to be remembered as someone who cared for God's favor and people's hearts, someone who was approachable and made people feel seen. Someone who was creative, unique, and interesting.
I want my impact to last longer than the new color of my house.