This is a sobering truth about your existence: a few decades after you pass away, no one will remember what you did. Sure, close family members might remember your name, but the core of your achievements will fade over time.
Accomplishments
Colossians 3:23, “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men.”
George Washington is often called the father of the United States. It’s taught in every school that he was a general in the revolutionary army that defeated the British in our fight for independence, and that he was our first president. These are facts; they don’t reveal much about who he truly was. We know facts about him, but we don’t really know him.
All your accomplishments, if you’re fortunate, will eventually become nothing more than data points. Most of what you’ve achieved in life will fade away like morning dew. Who you truly are will be lost in the memories of those who knew you. With their passing, so will the memory of you be lost in time.
Character
Proverbs 20:7, “The righteous who walks in his integrity—blessed are his children after him!”
If you want your essence to echo through eternity, it must be intentional. It’s not about your name; it’s about your character. Everyone leaves a legacy. The question is: what kind of legacy will we leave behind? Will people feel that your life was meaningful enough to imitate and pass down as an example to others? Are there people several generations from now who are connected to who you were?
“Our character is what we do when we think no one is looking.” H. Jackson Brown Jr.
Ego and hubris often lead to superficial achievements and empty accolades. My dad has many roads and bridges named after him, but the people who see the signs do not honestly know him. His legacy is not plaques but the life lessons he shared with us. My grandchildren, his great-grandchildren, are the true heirs of his legacy.
Colossians 3:12, “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.”
Leaving a legacy isn’t optional; you’re making one right now. The real question is: what kind of legacy are you creating? Is it something people who know you will pass on, or is it fleeting and shallow? Does it reflect Christ, or just worldly standards? The standards of the world are constantly changing and temporary. Worldly standards can be interpreted differently by each generation. Christ is unchanging and constant through time. Love, compassion, and grace are timeless.
Case in Point
Agur (Proverbs 30) claimed to be more brutish than any other human and lacked human understanding, but 3,000 years later, we are still learning from and passing on his wisdom. We know nothing about Agur the man; was he respected, did he work hard, or was he a good family man? But what we do know is his character and wisdom. That is the echo through eternity that we should all strive for.
Proverb 30:8-9, “Remove far from me vanity and lies: give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me: Lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord? or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain.”
When life turns up the heat and hardship defines our existence, do we see it as punishment or an opportunity to grow?
A Season of Gratitude
Have you ever felt like your plans were crushed, only to realize they weren’t broken but simply redirected for God’s purpose? Sometimes, God uses minor setbacks to teach us. This is a story of one such experience. Traveling internationally is always challenging. It’s not just about different languages and cultures; it’s also about everyday things like water and electricity. I was telling a friend the other day that I’ve never felt more entitled than when I stepped outside my environment into someone else’s.
The Trap of a Single Story
Where were you when My children were being murdered, raped, and starved? I gave you talents, resources, relationships, opportunities, and passion. I placed you in a world where you could flourish. As My chosen, I fed you, protected you, and surrounded you with abundance. And when My children cried out in need—where were you?
He saved you so you could do all these things. Mathew said it to Mary in an episode of The Chosen. He reminded her that, regardless of her iniquities, she mattered to God and others. It reminded me of a story from my own life. The idea that my voice could echo through eternity haunts me. I’m captivated by the thought that I might say something so meaningful that at least one person would pass it on. I don’t believe I possess that much wisdom; luckily for me, Christ does.
Because the man on the middle cross said I could come, that is what the thief might have said when standing before God. He didn’t mention Bible studies or mission trips. Acceptance wasn’t guaranteed by theology or learning; it was guaranteed because one man said he could come. That man was the representation of our living God. He was part of the Trinity, and He died so that we may live.
There is a risk in forming a narrative from a single story. But we do it all the time.
Non-believers are not my enemies; they are victims of my enemy. That statement shed new light on how I engage with those who haven’t had the privilege of meeting my Savior. Non-believers are victims of ignorance and misinformation. We can’t reasonably expect non-Christians to act like anything other than non-believers.