legacy

Resurrection Living: The Power of Legacy

/ Sharon / 1 Comment

 

More than a month has passed since Easter 2019, and Jesus still lives.  I want and need to live out this truth. My desire going forward is to experience resurrection as a state of mind and a way of life.

In the meantime, Mother’s Day has come and gone and it was complicated for all kinds of reasons. Children have grieved the loss of their mothers.  Mothers grieve over loss of children. Others grieve over less than ideal relationships with their mothers or children. As thankful as I am for the woman who birthed and raised me,  I am also accepting (and grieving) the fact that I will not birth a child. And yes, having any role in mothering another is wonderful, but the disappointment is still real.

Is it possible to breathe new life into a dream that has died?

When I think about loved ones who have died, I find some comfort from the legacy they left.  For me, legacy is like the act of weaving the most meaningful threads of someone else’s life into the tapestry of my own life. As I process my own ambivalence around motherhood, I am reflecting on Shiphrah and Puah, Hebrew midwives in the Old Testament book of Exodus and I’m encouraged that God had something special in store for them.

God was pleased with the midwives. The people continued to increase in number—a very strong people. And because the midwives honored God, God gave them families of their own. Exodus 1:20-21 (The Message)

That is not to say that Shiphrah and Puah necessarily had biological children, but they would indeed bring something forth.  This is their legacy to me.

In  Exodus Women, Volume One: Securing the Sacred, Alison Gise Johnson and Vanessa Monroe make this clarion call:

“Midwives have no purpose unless women are ready to give birth — to birth dreams, strategic plans, businesses, careers, research, publications, and ministries. At some point, even midwives themselves are ready to birth. And so are you.”

As a spiritual midwife, I have rejoiced in bearing witness to the birthing of purpose in others. Yet I also want to delight in that Voice saying, “And there is more for you too…”
How about you? What are you being called to bring forth?

Your Call: Where are you bearing witness to new life in this season?  Whose legacy can you reflect on to encourage you?

Amandla

/ Sharon / Leave a comment

MandelaSo they chained your wrists,
convinced that they had snatched your freedom.
But they didn’t know
that Love slipped through the bars,
whispered in your ear,
and multiplied Power within your soul.
They were oblivious to Hope and Peace,
who held your hands and didn’t let go.

Upon your release,
you carried Justice
and embodied Grace.

Amandla.

Madiba,
thank you.

Your Call: How does Mandela’s life and legacy compel you to move toward your own calling in life?

Legacy, Part 2

/ Sharon / 2 Comments

CC Image courtesy of Lane 4 Imaging on Flickr

As I look at pictures from the recent MLK memorial dedication, the 30 foot tall statue of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. seems larger than life.  So it is with the notion of legacy, especially when you consider all that Dr. King accomplished before the age of 40.

Reflecting upon the lives of those who have made a notably “visible” impact in the world can be inspiring and overwhelming at the same time.  Now that I’m forty-something, my perspective on legacy is being tested and is surely evolving in this season of my life. Anyone in any kind of leadership role knows the temptation to measure legacy by visibility.

Truth be told, Dr. King’s legacy was strengthened by many who were relatively less visible:  Rosa Parks, Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth, Fannie Lou Hamer, and Ella Baker, to name a few. And even less visible:  21 teachers (my mother included) in Elloree, SC, who resigned rather than renounce their NAACP memberships.

Perhaps legacy begins when we act on opportunities to plant seeds of eternity along the way, wherever our journeys take us.  A few months ago, I posted a blog in tribute to my father that spoke of his legacy in a metaphorical way.  To be more concrete, I can say that my father modeled a willingness to question, intellectual curiosity, awareness of what’s going on in the world, not being caught up in popularity or pretension, and love of family and friends.  Not that I’ve mastered these values by any means, but they serve as a compass for me nevertheless.

CC Image courtesy of VoiceBrazil on Flickr

As I’ve studied and taught on Luke’s account of the Gospel for the past few weeks, I am struck by Jesus’ willingness to become human in such an unassuming way.  He could have simply showed up grown and regal, but chose another path, immersing Himself into the vulnerability of the human experience. Jesus did not shrink back from moving in visible ways or acknowledging His identity, but He did so on His own terms, leaving a legacy of love, redemption and empowerment for us to follow.  While this legacy is also larger than life, it also transcends our limitations and shows us where to start: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  Love your neighbor as yourself. Act justly. Love mercy. Walk humbly with your God.

Your Call: If someone were commissioned to sculpt an image that represented you, what would you want it to look like?  What do you want to be remembered for?  How can you be more intentional about leaving a meaningful legacy?

Legacy

/ Sharon / 1 Comment

His hands hold steady.
I pedal forward to be
          released to the Wind.

This marks my fourth Father’s Day without my father’s presence.   As I grieved three years ago, I received many thoughtful expressions of sympathy, but one stands out in particular.  A childhood friend sparked a precious memory that has continued to be a point of reference in my journey.

The bicycle is yellow, not particularly fancy but definitely sturdy.  My father is a practical man, but I wonder why he would pick a yellow bicycle for a daughter who is terrified of bees. The sun is out during my riding lesson (probably one of many), so at least my bike matches the day.  I get on to the bicycle.  My father holds on and walks with me as I pedal, reassuring me.  Then we pick up speed and momentum builds and all of a sudden, he is standing with my friends, cheering me on. I don’t know when my father let go. All I know is that I’m riding.

On any given summer evening, I can imagine that many fathers are still teaching their children to ride their bikes without training wheels.   What speaks to me now is the beauty of the transition of that moment.  There was not only a release, but a release to something — the wind that continued to usher me along even as I struggled to find my balance.  Certainly, this experience points to what parents and mentors are called by God to do.  I am inspired by my father’s faithfulness to his assignment and compelled to follow his lead.  In the meantime, the ride continues and when I feel unsteadied, I remind myself that the Everlasting Arms have always picked up where my father left off.

Your Call: Think about someone who has left a legacy which inspires you to move forward in God’s purpose for your life.  What legacy do you want to leave behind?