When we moved back to the U.S. from Singapore, everything we
owned fit into the back of a van… then we bought a house. Nancy loves yard
sales so much I wrote a song
about it, so it was a wonderful time for her.
She spent hours on Craigslist, at yard sales and estate
sales to find beds, couches and tables. And I’m grateful; we’d still be paying
it off if we bought everything new.
On one particular “Stop the car!” moment Nancy saw an estate
sale. If you’re feeling overly chipper, go to an estate sale. They are usually homes
of older people who either died or are “transitioning.”
You wander through someone’s house, picking over all their
things, like vultures, haggling over their prized possessions.
In this particular house, there was an award on the wall
from the Pentagon, honoring a man’s years of service. I could have owned it for
$2. No one wanted it; no one cared.
Estate sales make you consider your own mortality and what
you value. You can’t help but think, “Someday, it will be my house someone is
picking through.”
When my grandfather died, he was buried the same day as Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. Their services couldn't have been more different; hers attended
by thousands, his by just a handful. As I looked around the room I wondered
who would remember him after I, and his four other grandchildren, die. In just
two generations he could be forgotten forever.
But as I started to descend into depression something occurred to
me. Ray Elders lived a life of significance, planting and pastoring churches; churches
where the Gospel is still proclaimed. He will not be remembered, but his impact
will last generations.
The hard reality is, life is short and the world moves on quickly
after we’re gone. But that reality shouldn't depress us, it should motivate us. If we choose to engage in work with eternal significance, our impact will last for lifetimes.
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