My two oldest grandchildren, now 12 and 13, spent several days with me recently. Cheyenne is now taller than I am by almost two inches. Her brother, Brennan, is also catching up with my five foot plus three inches. I’m not getting any taller, but they are.
It’s sometimes difficult to fathom how fast the years have gone. It seems just like yesterday that I was changing their diapers. While I miss those years, I’m enjoying this new season in life. Watching God at work in them and through them is a delight to this praying “Nana.”
A friend’s essay in a Christian writer’s newsletter made me think about our time here on earth. Martha, who turned 60 recently, wrote, “Am I really that old?”
Then, she questioned herself. “What do I have to show for sixty years of living? What impact have I made on my world? Do I even have a legacy to leave? If I die tomorrow, what would be put on my gravestone?”
Like me, Martha may have another 30 years to live or we may die tomorrow. Neither of us cares about making a name for ourselves, but we want our children and grandchildren to know what it means to have a vibrant relationship with Jesus Christ. We want others to know the peace only God can give.
As Christian writers, we know the best way to leave a legacy is through our writing. Encouraging other writers in our group, she wrote, “I believe my heart, and yours too, is in the right place. But if we never get what’s in our heart on paper or on the computer screen for our loved ones and the rest of the world to read, our gift will never see fruition.
“Sixty years are behind me. I can’t bring them back. I can’t catch up or regain wasted time. But I’m determined to make each day count. I challenge you to do the same. Write out your goals. Determine with me to do something each day toward accomplishing those goals,” she added.
An aging man was asked, “Which is the happiest season of life?”
He replied, “When spring comes, and in the soft air the buds are breaking on the trees, and they are covered with blossoms, I think, ‘How beautiful is spring.’ When summer comes and covers the trees with its heavy foliage, and singing birds are among the branches, I think, ‘How beautiful is summer.’
“When autumn loads them with golden fruit, and their leaves bear the gorgeous tint of frost, I think, ‘How beautiful is autumn.’ And when it is severe winter, and there is neither foliage nor fruit, then I look up through the leafless branches as I never could until now, and see the stars shine in God’s home.”
Before we’re called to our heavenly home, we need to make each season count.