Legacy from Bethany

Last week my husband and I did some rearranging of our rooms.  Rearranging caused a dire need for sorting and weeding out of valuable things like books and not so valuable things like old 3-ring binders we'd accumulated through our years as teachers.  We also had to find a new place to store some of our c.d.s.  We needed something big enough, but not too big; attractive enough to set out; and functional - we wanted to be able to see and get to the music we wanted.  We settled on some baskets.  In sorting through all the c.d.s, though, I ran across a few I'd forgotten about over the years.  One favorite in particular is a CeCe Wynans album with the song Alabaster Box on it.  That song never fails to make me cry.

Now, I can cry at a good many songs for a lot of different reasons.  Music is touching on so many levels.  But this one makes me cry for the same reason the story in scripture it's taken from makes me cry:  I realize what a price has been paid for me, how unworthy I am to have received such love, and how much I take it for granted.

When Jesus came to Bethany before His crucifixion, he had dinner at a man's home.  While He ate, a woman came in with a beautiful alabaster jar which held expensive perfume [which was probably her greatest possession - what would be her legacy].  She poured the perfume over Jesus head and, without regard to the presence of others, she bathed His feet in it, wiping them with her hair.  When the others complained about the waste of something so valuable, Jesus defended her sharply.  He declared that wherever the Good News of Him was preached anywhere in the world forevermore, her actions would be remembered (Mark 14:3-9).


What a legacy that is!  To have touched the Savior's heart so much so that He attached your gesture, your personal expression of gratitude and love for Him, to His own gospel story.

Today is the 4th of July.  Independence Day for our nation.  Today we celebrate our freedom which is the legacy we have been left.  It's the one we fight to protect, defend, and promote.  We remember those who have died for its cause.  We consider the cost of what we take for granted nearly every other day of the long calendar year.  We light up the sky and mimic the noises of battle in our celebrations.  We often spare a few moments between pulling hot dogs and burgers from the grill and waiting for the sky to get dark to really consider what we've got, what it's worth to us each personally.  And even then, we really have no idea.

I often think about the women I knew as I was growing up.  I watched them in church and I learned from their examples - both good and bad.  I don't have any daughters of my own, but I do have many daughters in the students I've taught through the years and the little girls who do the same things I did when I was young - watch me at church and learn from my example.  I want to be someone they remember, even if they don't recall my name, as the lady who was gentle, serene, content, calm, thoughtful, considerate, gracious and kind.  These descriptors applied to me would please me very much.  But, I know that at the heart of it, it's a matter of the heart.  Anyone can affect these attributes.  I want them to grow honestly from a soul that's been saved, that recognizes the cost of that salvation and is eternally grateful for it.  I want my legacy to be the expression of love of my Savior as Mary's was at Bethany.  Personal even in the midst of public scrutiny; an unwaivering quiet devotion.