Shannon S. McKee

musings and moments

Considering Your Legacy

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“Leaving a legacy.” It’s one of those phrases that feels weighty and important. Something within us leaps at the idea but it’s also vague and hard to pin down. It’s certainly the buzzword on the news lately with the retirement of SCOTUS Justice Anthony Kennedy.

What DOES it mean to leave a legacy? A strict dictionary definition defines it primarily in terms of money – an amount of money or property left to someone in a will. A secondary definition is still “sfuff” focused – a thing handed down by a predecessor (it’s an effect/consequence that could be good or bad). But, in recent years there is more and more being written about this idea of legacy. Time/life management books wisely challenge you to start with the end in mind: to imagine your funeral and consider what kind of legacy you want to leave.

Legacy is the idea of being remembered for what you have contributed to the world. In some cases, that contribution can be so noteworthy that history is changed and the whole world takes note. Think men and women like William Wilberforce, Harriet Tubman, Martin Luther King, Jr., Winston Churchill, etc. Truthfully, most of us won’t fall into that category. We will leave a more modest legacy that doesn’t necessarily change the world but does leave some kind of lasting footprint on the lives it touches.

The thing that strikes me – whether the legacy is world-changing or life-changing – is that I suspect the legacy-leaver was just a regular, everyday person like you or me who had been captured by two things: (1) a vision or calling that propelled them forward and (2) a desire to be faithful in light of that vision.

A vision that propelled them. They didn’t leave a legacy because they were all about “legacy” for legacy sake. Something had captured their hearts and imaginations. Their lives became about that something that was bigger than themselves. They went after that ideal or vision… and ended up having lasting impact. Take Wilberforce as an example – a series of events brought him to a place where he became convinced that slavery was wrong. He knew he had been placed in a position of influence for his job so he used that position in service to the broader conviction that had captured his heart. The result was that most of his adult life was devoted to, first, stopping the transatlantic slave trade and, second, outlawing slavery in England. The vision compelled him.

A desire to be faithful. For most legacy-leavers, the impact came along the way in small, everyday decisions to act or follow-through. Their vision caused them to order their life in such a way that little investments were made all along the way. Some call this personal mastery or personal effectiveness. Peter Senge says it this way: “Personal mastery is the discipline of continually clarifying and deepening our personal vision, of focusing our energies, of developing patience, and of seeing reality objectively.” These legacy-leavers stick at it. They overcome obstacles. They are disciplined in the small stuff. They do the next thing.

For Christians, both are clearly summed up in our discipleship to Christ. My life is not ordered around my family or my career or my hobbies. It’s ordered around God and His kingdom. My vision is a kingdom vision – He might call me to something specific within that (like He did with Wilberforce) but it also might just be a lot of years of becoming more like my Lord, faithfully loving others, giving my time and money, going out of my comfort zone, studying His Word, and praying. Basically, looking at my priorities and doing the next thing that is right in front of me.

The trick is that you never really know when your small act of faithfulness will produce something huge.

Like Lydia in the book of Acts. She was an entrepreneur in her community of Philippi – a seller of purple linens. As part of her weekly routine, she used to gather with some other girlfriends down by the river every day – to pray. They didn’t yet know the God to whom they prayed but they were obviously hungry for spiritual truth. Today, we’d call them seekers. The apostle Paul noticed them there and decided to seize the moment tell them about Jesus. Lydia’s heart leapt at this and she opened her life to Christ.

Something transformative happened in that moment and Lydia became captured by a vision bigger than herself – a Kingdom vision. So she acted. First, she told her whole family about Jesus – they responded like she had in faith. Then they all got baptized. The first church in Europe was planted that day. Because Lydia was responsive and faithful. It wasn’t long after that that she told Paul he could use her house to gather this fledgling church together. Because of her wealth and success as an entrepreneur, her house was likely an ideal place for such a gathering.

Some years later Paul would write a letter to the church at Philippi – at that writing, it wasn’t a fledgling church anymore. It was a thriving, influential church in the region.  A sending church. A giving church. A mature, theologically solid church that brought deep encouragement to the embattled apostle Paul.

Do you think that Lydia had all of that in mind when she offered her house as a gathering spot? Do you think she was thinking about her legacy? I don’t. I think she loved her Jesus, was compelled by His kingdom, and offered up what she had in service to that vision. Legacy was the result.

And, today, thousands of years later, another woman sits at her kitchen table in a small town in Ohio in the USA. She’s a little teary-eyed as she reads the words Paul wrote to that church in Philippi where sweet Lydia opened up her life and then her home.

On the Occasion of Her 95th Birthday: Grammy and Her Giggles

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My Grammy turns 95 today. This precious woman of strength and dignity with a giggle that lights up the entire room. I think most of her grandkids would say it’s one of their favorite sounds.

Ninety-five years has certainly brought a lot of giggles but also a lot of heartbreak. A WW2 nurse, she was abandoned by her first husband to raise four kids alone just when life should have been settling into a predictable groove. One of three from an Irish Catholic family, Grammy was resourceful and independent enough to persevere during those years of mothering alone while working full-time as a nurse until she met my Grandad, who carried his own heartbreak as a widower with three boys. He was the one who introduced her to Jesus – not the Jesus of dos and donts and works that she had learned as a girl. But the Jesus who loved her and pursued her and would meet all the awe of a holy God with His own righteousness on her behalf. She gave into the overwhelming flood of His grace then and has spent the rest of her life unlearning old legalisms in order to really KNOW Him more fully.

When she married my Grandad, they become one family of nine in the big, brick house on Longmere. Somehow they managed to let God take their two torn and broken stories and weave them into one beautiful tapestry. There would be more heartbreak and challenge over the years. But their tapestry would become richer and more intricate over time as they learned to truly love each other and wrangle their growing family. Seven children meant lots of grandkids and great-grandkids to love.

That’s my place in the tapestry. Grandkid #3. I spent a lot of Saturdays in their home exploring and doing projects with Grammy or yapping on and on at Grandad. They were the kind of grandparents who tried to make it to our ballgames and took us for homemade ice cream for no reason. They have always presided over our big family gatherings – we had many over the years. In my adult years I have been privileged to live near them again and see them often.

Today, they always have Milano cookies in the kitchen. Back in the day, they had a knobby rug at the top of their basement steps, apple juice in the frig, and sunflower seeds in the cupboard.

Grammy wrote the best letters when you went away to camp or on a missions trip – or moved away. And, she was always taking care of someone – more people have lived in that basement of theirs than I can count. When any of her children or grandchildren suffered, she suffered along with them emotionally and prayerfully. And, then there was Carmella whom she nursed through years until muscular dystrophy took her life.

It’s funny the things that standout as vivid memories. Snapshots in time that will always stick with me. Of course, I remember other silly things like that she used to be able to make the Donald Duck voice. Or that she could fearlessly kill a Banana Spider between her thumb and pointer finger. Oh, and, I am her Padawan in the ways of the binder clip – that woman could write a book about the many, varied uses of binder clips. Her ability to find a way to reuse or fix something is unrivaled – probably a skill honed during her single mom days. Grandad was always the spender. She tells me that her own Dad was a very frugal guy and that’s where she learned it. But through it all – she has always giggled as she observed the idiosyncrasies of life. Always that giggle. Like she is just truly tickled by the joys of this life.

Her body is starting to fail her and it’s tough for her to get out of the house now. But her eyes are bright and that giggle… it’s not contained to one house. It has a way of sticking with you around town.

In fact, I’m hoping to go get a bit of it later today myself. Happy Birthday Grammy! I know in some ways you’re ready to go meet your Lord face to face. But, I for one, am glad to have the giggle with us a bit longer.