There's a line from Rent at Angel's funeral where Maureen is giving her eulogy and she says, "You always used to say how lucky we were that we were friends, but it was us, baby, who were the lucky ones."
I've been thinking lately about the legacies we leave. What will people remember about me? I know what I wouldn't want them to say, but I think a lot about the footprints I'm making in the metaphorical beach of life. I'm not looking for immortality, but rather for significance--that I made a profound impact somewhere in the world. Isn't that all any of us want?
And yet that thought itself feels a little selfish. Who cares what people say about me when I'm gone? I won't be here to care.
But I don't think that's the point. The point is that all of us should want to live our lives to the most beautiful point. It's so easy to be negative and to spread hopelessness. It's much more challenging to remain determined to do good and to be good.
I am nowhere near perfect when it comes to doing and being good. I make a lot of mistakes. I have a quick temper. I can get sucked into a black hole of despair. But I try to remind myself that it's OK to make mistakes (we're all human, after all) so long as you don't let it dictate our present life and our future. We can't let ourselves be defined by our stumbles. Life's too short.
I don't really know where I'm going with this, other than to echo what Pastor Josh said last month: "Be the kind of person who lights up a room when you walk in, not when you walk out."
I don't think any of that is supposed to be easy. But it's a challenge I want to embrace.