What legacy do you plan to leave? How will you be remembered, not just in death, but by those communities, those people whose lives come into contact with yours? Most days we are so busy living our lives that we give very little thought to these kinds of questions. Mostly we are occupied with doing the laundry, answering emails, mowing the grass, doing the acts of whatever work we call our own, to be too intentional about how all of this might lead to comments people make about our legacy. We often forget that the way we spend our days is the way, in truth, that we spend our lives and the sum total of all this is making an impact, an impact that will be remembered by someone…someday.

One of the great gifts of the work I do is that I have the privilege of sitting with people as they plan for the memorial and funeral services of loved ones. If someone would have told me when I was younger that this is something I would be doing, not only doing but enjoying, I would have told them they were off their rocker! But here I am, holding the space while people remember, celebrate, mourn, and tell the legacy story of those who have shared their lives. Words cannot express the deep blessing this is to me.

Some of this legacy sharing comes easier than others. Not all people have reflected with any clarity on the legacy of another. Even those who lose someone who is quite close, a mother, father, or child, can sometimes find it difficult to articulate the ways in which they were shaped by this relationship. Often this has more to do with deep grief or the lack of experience in reflection than it has to do with any individual, any specific person. The truth is every person has influenced someone, has contributed in some way to the fabric of a community.

Today I was privileged to celebrate the life of one of the matriarchs not only of her family but of our church. Because she had been in failing health for some time and had lived to the impressive age of ninety-three, her family had had the gift of time to find the words that expressed her legacy. It was a beautiful thing to be in the presence of their memories, of the ways in which they so fully knew and could say how her life had given form to theirs. From the young ones to the senior ones, they had come to their own peace with both grief and celebration.

Over the last weeks as I have been planning for her memorial service someone shared with me a song that was a favorite of hers. It is an old hymn, one we don’t sing much anymore. But it is one that was a growing up song for me. I remember the sound of my grandmother’s wobbly voice joining the other wobbly voices of women her age as they sang these words in church:

“I would be true, for there are those who trust me;
I would be pure, for there are those who care;
I would be strong, for there is much to suffer;
I would be brave, for there is much to dare.

I would be friend to all, the foe, the friendless;
I would be giving, and forget the gift;
I would be humble, for I know my weakness;
I would look up, and laugh and love, and lift.”

As a child there was something in these words that touched on my youthful piety. They were words I hoped would be true of me, that I saw as a kind of challenge. That younger self hoped that the sentiment of this hymn would be some form of legacy that might evolve into my life. I was thankful to be reminded of them and to have the tune become my personal ear worm over the last few days. While I may not have attained the fullness of these words, this week I have remembered the strong women and men whose faith has held me, challenged me, and inspired me, those who could sing this song with an assurance for which I still strive.

Perhaps the lesson is that a legacy takes a lifetime to create.