My Changing Legacy

by Andy Wood on February 29, 2008

in Five LV Laws, Principle of Legacy

(updated September 29, 2009)

[kml_flashembed movie="" width="425" height="350" wmode="transparent" /]Okay, if you aren’t one of the millions of  people who has seen this three-year-old’s stunning summary of Star Wars (Episode IV), let me be the first to introduce you. This little girl had seen the movie only once, and her dad spread it over three days so it wouldn’t be too much all at once for her. She started retelling the story to him in much more vivid detail even than here, but alas, he says, the camera wasn’t rolling. So he got her to start over. He says:

She wasn’t coached to say anything, nor was she forced to make the video. She rarely stops talking. Those of you with children understand this: sometimes it’s harder to turn the faucet off than to turn the faucet on.

This isn’t about Star Wars. I really don’t care whether you are a complete fool for Luke, Chewbacca and the gang, or whether you think the series is completely evil, or even whether you’ve seen it. It’s about something much more profound.

It’s about your legacy.

One more piece of homework: Take a look at Todd Thompson’s piece about “Tell the Whole Story.” Stout Stuff!

Like Todd, somewhere this father – probably before his little girl was ever born – had decided that one of the things he wanted to make sure she saw, if he had anything to say about it, was Star Wars.

There’s probably more where that came from – once he gets through all the offers for agents, special schools, and the avalanche of email and comments. I can tell from his comments about the comments that he’s the kind of dad who thinks about these things. He thinks about what he wants his little girl(s) and surely if there are boys, them too, to experience, to know, to see.

I think that way, too. It’s just that my kids aren’t three any more.

Ever since I was a preschooler, I wanted to be a dad. My dad taught me by example to want to be a dad, and I obliged. I used to pretend that I had children before I started school. During my high school days I read The Late Great Planet Earth and learned about Jesus coming back to earth. I feared greatly that Jesus would return before I got to be married and be a father. That was a real surrender point to the Lord.

Along the way, as I passed the time, I collected things. Ideas. Books. Dreams. Wishes. Yes, movies. Places. All things I wanted my kids to see, hear, experience.

I wanted them to love to read.

I wanted them to love music, whether they were talented at it or not.

I wanted them to see Chariots of Fire, Fiddler on the Roof, and yes, the Star Wars trilogy.

I wanted them to know the testimony of Darlene Rose, the missionary who was taken prisoner of war by the Japanese during World War II.

Bamalot 2I wanted them to know about their extended family and to experience the family farm (“Clover Hill” to my grandparents, “Lonesome Pine” to my parents, and I’ve started calling it “Bamalot.”) I wanted them to fish out of the pond there, and to know how to get to (and get home from) Deer Bluff.

I wanted them to know the way to Mobile and Millry, to Oak Ridge and Gatlinburg, to Atlanta and D.C.

I wanted them to love kids and be a friend to kids as much as I love kids.

I wanted them to love history, and know about Abigail Adams and Ronald Reagan and Abraham Lincoln and Robert E. Lee and Dr. King and Winston Churchill, Billy and Ruth Graham, Jim and Elisabeth Elliott, Peter and Catherine Marshall.

I wanted them to know my pastor, Fred Wolfe, even though he wouldn’t be their pastor.

Then I married a missionary’s kid and – Egads! a Texan – who learned to speak Thai as she learned to speak English. I wanted them to be as intrigued by her legacy and history and family as I was (and still am).

More than all that, I wanted them know – to know Jesus – and the power of His resurrection – and the fellowship of His sufferings (Philippians 3:10). And I wanted them to love telling other people about Him.

Things are changing. They’re married now, and starting families of their own. And they have their own dreams.  And in a sense, I’m starting over. Now I’m starting to think about the things I want my grandchildren to know and experience and believe, long after my life here is done.

Those grandchildren will have some pretty good teachers in their parents.

But just in case, I still know the way to Deer Bluff.

And I still have a (VHS!) copy of Star Wars.

{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }

Terry Richardson February 29, 2008 at 3:11 pm

I can tell . . . you’re going to be a mess as a grandfather. Completely out of control. But, you’ll love it. 🙂

Robin Wood February 29, 2008 at 3:53 pm

Oh baby, you just thought we had fun… the best is yet to be.

JoAnne Wood February 29, 2008 at 10:15 pm

I think your children know about all of the things that you wanted them to know, and I believe their children will know those things also because you have taught them to love family and want their children to do the same. We love you and your family.

Daddy February 29, 2008 at 10:47 pm


Leave a Comment

CommentLuv badge

{ 1 trackback }

Previous post:

Next post: