legacy

but in the end, I'd like to hang my hat on more besides the temporary trappings of this world.

I want to leave a legacy - how will they remember me?

If I've learned one lesson over the last two years, it's this: growing up is hard.

I say this as someone who, in many ways, had a pretty seamless transition from university student into life as a "young professional." A lot of things came easy to me, like managing money, grocery shopping and caring for a life other than my own (albeit, a furry one). These things aren't always fun - I don't think I'll ever enjoy watching most of my pay disappear within minutes on bills - but I've always looked a them as part of being an adult. I came complain all I want, but it's not going to make the power bill go away. 

Career-wise, I'll be the first to admit I've been incredibly lucky. I started working for the newspaper about two weeks before graduation and after 16 months of interning, I was offered a full-time position. I often joke that I'll be the junior reporter for my entire time at the paper - I slid into my position just before the hiring freeze in my department and although many editorial positions have been vacated over the last year, that freeze has stayed in place. My company isn't the only one not hiring, either - to say it's challenging to get into the media industry in this province would be an understatement. That's something I'm keenly aware of.

My personal life isn't too bad, either. I have a lot of really amazing friends, a fantastic boyfriend and overall, I'd say I live a pretty comfortable life. 

Which is why I always feel a little foolish admitting I have a lot of anxiety about growing up.  I have so much I am grateful for but I've also been experiencing a tremendous amount of personal dissatisfaction. I struggled for a long time to figure out why - that didn't seem to make a lot of sense to me, taking everything above into consideration - but over the last couple months, I've figured it out.

For so long, my focus has been on the now - what I'm doing to advance my education, my career, my social status, etc. - that I haven't put any significant thought into what I want to leave behind. I've spent a long time working on myself and not nearly enough time serving others.

The problem became clear to me in the spring, when I was in Halifax for the Atlantic Journalism Awards. I was nominated alongside four of my colleagues at the paper so a whole crew of us made the trip to the city for the award banquet. We stayed in a hotel paid for by the company, got dressed up and had a fancy dinner. 

 The awards were on a Saturday night but we went up on Friday and made a weekend of it. Halifax is a great city, easily one of my favourites on the east coast, so it was a lot of fun. I did some shopping (oh boy, did I do some shopping), got to sleep in and generally had a chance to relax.

I also drove about a half-hour outside the city to go to an event at a church. Jason Gray was the musical guest and Shane Claiborne was the guest speaker. He talked about working with Mother Teresa in Calcutta, spending time in Iraq during the bombing in 2003 and the general idea of rejecting materialism and nationalism and living in loving, close community that looks out for one another based on the idea of loving God and loving others. 

I had meant to write about seeing him speak but truth be told, it took me a long time to process what he was saying. I read a few of his books afterward - I was halfway through The Irresistible Revolution when I saw him and I picked up Red Letter Revolution at the event. To say those books struck a chord with me would be an understatement. The messages made so much sense to me. 

They also made me think about my own life, the things I think are of value and, perhaps more significantly, the things that matter a lot less than I once thought.

Like material items.

Like a big balance in my bank account.

Like applause and accolades and plaques to hang on my wall.

That's not to say those things aren't nice - I'm certainly not complaining about being able to have nice things or a little financial security or being recognized for hard work. But in the grand scheme of things, they're not all that important - and they're certainly not what I want to be remembered for.

How do I want to be remembered?

I want to be remembered as someone who saw the things in my life as blessings - who trusted God to give me the things I needed and didn't fret too much for the things I didn't have.

I want to be remembered as someone who thought helping others was more important than hoarding my good fortune. 

I want to be remembered as someone who looked for ways to show kindness - to everyone.

I want to be remembered as someone who constantly chose love over hate, peace over war and speaking life and mercy and grace. I want to be remembered for walking my talk. 

And I don't want these traits and qualities to only be attached to my memory. I want to live them now. 

I didn't win the award for my category. In fact, despite having several nominations as a company, we only walked away with one gold at the award ceremony. But while winning would have been nice, losing was OK, too.

Because ultimately, all I want is the kind of legacy that will lead to hearing Jesus say the words "well done, my good and faithful servant" one day.

Earthly awards of silver and gold can't compare to recognition like that. 

well, I don't know about you but I'm sick and tired 

of life with no desire - I don't want a flame, I want a fire.

I wanna be the one who stands up and says 

"I'm gonna do something!"