Legacy

A few weeks ago* at community group a good question was asked of the parents in the room: what advice do you have for aspiring parents? Josh answered quickly and with the hammer-like definitiveness that I expect and appreciate from him: "You are not doing enough now to prepare."

Some thought this was a bit much in the way of an answer in the context, but I appreciate it. I don't want fluff; I want honesty. This is akin to Josh kicking me, as opposed to putting a "kick me" sign on my back and absolving himself of all responsibility for the inevitable act**: he pointed to a definite shortcoming, as opposed to overlooking it and setting up for failure. 

I know a few things that I am doing any given tomorrow. There are also a few probables, not to mention all too many should-but-won'ts. 
I have at least a vague idea of what tomorrow looks like. A week down the road the picture gets more blurry. This time next year I have a few goals, but they're basically dots against a grey field. Ten, twenty, forty years? In the immortal words of Green Day,
<block>It makes me wonder when I get to be that age will I be walking around begging you for your spare change? Or when I get that old will I still be around? The world will carry on. I'll end up six feet underground.</block>

Don't get me wrong - I'm a firm believer in carpe diem. At the same time, carpe diem is all too often misapplied: we must seize the opportunities of each day, using them to build into the future, not living as if there is no tomorrow. 

The idea here is <b>legacy</b>. What kind of legacy am I leaving? I am a single guy with no children, but every decision that I make now affects my future wife and children. Furthermore, it affects those around me, which in turn affects those around them, ad infinitum. Legacy is something to consider now, not septa- or octogenarianally. What I do now builds the legacy I leave then. While the whole picture is ultimately in Christ's hands, I must still be diligent. 

This is something I've been thinking about for quite a while now, even before Josh's statement. I even changed my name on Facebook a few weeks ago, adding "Sr.": now, every time that I log into Facebook I'm reminded of this. After all, the legacy that I build today is the legacy that I leave when I die. 


*To be specific, it was 24 May. 
**This is not to say that Josh was being mean. For the sake of this metaphor, I needed to be kicked. 

A few weeks ago* at community group a good question was asked of the parents in the room: what advice do you have for aspiring parents? Josh answered quickly and with the hammer-like definitiveness that I expect and appreciate from him: "You are not doing enough now to prepare."

Some thought this was a bit much in the way of an answer in the context, but I appreciate it. I don't want fluff; I want honesty. This is akin to Josh kicking me, as opposed to putting a "kick me" sign on my back and absolving himself of all responsibility for the inevitable act**: he pointed to a definite shortcoming, as opposed to overlooking it and setting up for failure. 

I know a few things that I am doing any given tomorrow. There are also a few probables, not to mention all too many should-but-won'ts. 
I have at least a vague idea of what tomorrow looks like. A week down the road the picture gets more blurry. This time next year I have a few goals, but they're basically dots against a grey field. Ten, twenty, forty years? In the immortal words of Green Day,
<block>It makes me wonder when I get to be that age will I be walking around begging you for your spare change? Or when I get that old will I still be around? The world will carry on. I'll end up six feet underground.</block>

Don't get me wrong - I'm a firm believer in carpe diem. At the same time, carpe diem is all too often misapplied: we must seize the opportunities of each day, using them to build into the future, not living as if there is no tomorrow. 

The idea here is <b>legacy</b>. What kind of legacy am I leaving? I am a single guy with no children, but every decision that I make now affects my future wife and children. Furthermore, it affects those around me, which in turn affects those around them, ad infinitum. Legacy is something to consider now, not septa- or octogenarianally. What I do now builds the legacy I leave then. While the whole picture is ultimately in Christ's hands, I must still be diligent. 

This is something I've been thinking about for quite a while now, even before Josh's statement. I even changed my name on Facebook a few weeks ago, adding "Sr.": now, every time that I log into Facebook I'm reminded of this. After all, the legacy that I build today is the legacy that I leave when I die. 


*To be specific, it was 24 May. 
**This is not to say that Josh was being mean. For the sake of this metaphor, I needed to be kicked. 

Legacy