My mom has these two green arm chairs that we have had since I can remember. I don’t remember when we got them, but they are an integral part of our home. You may wonder, “Why would two green chairs be so important to a home? They’re just furniture.” You would be absolutely right, they are just furniture. It’s not that they themselves were such an important part of my growing up, but rather what they represent.
I see those chairs as a part of my mother’s legacy. You see, that is where my mom has her quiet time with God. She showed us kids that reading God’s Word was an essential part of her day. I don’t remember a day that she didn’t sit in those green chairs, read her Bible, pray, read a devotional, and make notes about things that came to her mind during that quiet time with God. Sometimes she would cry and sometimes she would be somber. Other times she would walk away from there as though a weight was lifted from her shoulders. That was her place where she could sit at the feet of Jesus.
Those chairs were also the place where we would sit if my parents needed to talk with us independent of our siblings’ listening ears. By “talk”, I don’t mean just any menial item that came up in my parents’ heads. No, these were the serious talks where my parents would share their heart to us.
Those chair would also be the place we would sit if I needed to share something from my heart and I wanted my mom’s and/or dad’s full attention. It was safe place to share what I was struggling with away from the distractions of the rest of the house.
I think about those green chairs often now that I’m a mother. What legacy am I leaving for my children? Do I show them what’s truly important in my life? Do I show them that having a quiet time with my Lord is an essential part of my life?
Those chairs, those green chairs, were so very meaningful in my life as I grew up. That’s why I say that they are a part of my mother’s legacy. She showed me, in her subtle way, what meant the most to her – what her legacy is: A life where she put Jesus first.
What’s your legacy?