RGR Banquet

F and E had their end of the year Run Girls Run banquet celebration. This is F’s final one. She’s been doing for three years now. Great program for my girls!

Sunny Saturday

Spent the day with my bestie yard saleing and such. She scored some new chairs while I scored a few things myself... including a Nothing Bundt cake ;)

Well he’s really just minus four teeth. Sure hope they didn’t take any wisdom with them! Surgery today but he seems to have already bounced back. I didn’t even get any weird videos boo. Crazy child of mine :)

In Full Bloom

All of my flowers are looking great! Comes with a lot of yard work, keeping me busy for sure;) oh and pulled the trampoline out for the girls to utilize a bit before the pool opens!

Fwd: Living My Legacy

This article feeds my intentional mindset with my people indeed! Most of all I hope my legacy includes a bit of Jesus too. I'm a work in progress... relying on Him every.single.day.

Living My Legacy

Click here to view article on the web

Minimalism has allowed me to loosen my grip on possessions, relationships, and behaviors that no longer serve me and embrace a life that supports my values and bring me joy. Each time I let go, it makes it easier to do next time.

The continual practice of letting go has made me think more about the fleeting nature of life and what I will leave behind when I eventually leave this earth. While I feel confident that my two sons won't have to sift through piles of my physical possessions, I've been thinking more about my legacy.

The primary definition of legacy includes property or money that is left as a gift. My definition, however, focuses on the intangible things that are handed down from one generation to the next, such as values, traditions, and memories. As a writer, I also want to pass down poems and writings that help my sons understand the joys and struggles I have experienced through my life.

One of the definitions of legacy that really struck me was "something that is the result of events in the past." In other words, the legacy that I leave to my children in the future is a result of the events and activities happening now. These events and activities are a direct result of how I spend my time.

I imagine a future conversation with my almost 3-year old son. In this scenario he's 10 or 11 years old, still very inquisitive but also still interested in talking to his mom (I hope.)

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

"When I was little, what did you do?"

"What do you mean, what did I do?"

"Did you have a job?"

"Well yes, I did. I stayed home with you and your brother. I didn't go to an office like Daddy did. But I took care of you guys, cooked meals, and took care of the house."

"Did you like doing that?"

"Most of the time. When you guys were really little it was hard but it got easier."

"What else did you do?"

(Laughing) "That took up most of my time, honey."

"Well, yeah, but what did you do when you were by yourself?"

"Hmmm…well, I watched Netflix. Oh, and YouTube videos of people singing in competitions. And I scrolled."

"Scrolled?"

"You know, scrolled on my phone. Scrolling up and down."

"What were you looking for?"

"Looking for?"

"When you scrolled up and down. What were you looking for?"

(Pause) "I don't know, honey. Something that would make me feel something."

"Like what?"

"Happier. More inspired. Less stressed."

"Did it work?"

(Pause) "Sometimes. But most of the time I didn't feel any happier than I did before. Most of the time I felt the same, or worse."

"Did you stop?"

"No. I just kept watching and scrolling, thinking something would change. But it never did."

"So if that didn't work, what actually made you happy?"

"Writing. Dancing. Spending time with you boys and your dad. Going on walks. Being kind to other people and finding ways to help or inspire them."

"Why didn't you do more of that?"

"I was tired. Worried that people wouldn't like what I wrote, or that I didn't have anything interesting to say. Scared to try new things. But mostly just tired."

I imagine the look on his face when I tell him that I was too tired or scared to live my truth, to utilize my gifts and talents for their greatest good. Perhaps you don't have children, but this conversation could be with your 10-year old self. What dreams did you have? What lit you up? What if you told your 10-year old self that you spend most of your time watching a screen and scrolling on your phone?

It's important to note that I'm very extrinsically motivated. Living intentionally is important not just because it positively impacts my physical, mental, and emotional health. If it were enough just to do it for myself, my daily habits and actions would reflect this. But thinking about how my actions affect those around me, especially my children, gives me motivation to change.

Living my legacy every day is how I leave a legacy that makes me proud. It's not a piece of paper that tells my children what they get when I die. It's how I spend my time. It's how I treat myself and others. It's the values I demonstrate through my actions. It's how I fulfill my unique purpose in this world.

I don't want my legacy to be built on the foundation of my regrets. Regrets about how I spent my time, about how I squandered my creative calling by only consuming the ideas of others. How I shrank away in the shadows of comparison rather than stepping into the light of my uniqueness. How I looked for something or someone else to help me "feel something" when the world needed me to share who I was to help them feel less alone.

When I feel stuck in the exhaustion that has been my constant companion since becoming a mother almost three years ago, it's easy to distract, numb, and procrastinate when I have precious moments to myself. Remembering to live the legacy I want to leave helps me to refocus and move forward with courage and without apology.

. . .

About the Author

Emily McDermott is a wife, mother, and simplicity seeker, chronicling her journey at Simple by Emmy. She loves to dance, write poetry, and spend time with her husband and two young sons.

Rewind

Four years ago having a blast down the river with Julia and the kids. Fun memories!

Working Woman

Yes, she takes after her mama!

Worth the Read

Why Tiger Woods Wins For Us All

Tiger Woods’ emotional grip on his son culminated a journey back from the sports-dead. We see a man experience professional victory and personal redemption.

By Ed Uszynski

When Tiger Woods hugged his son after winning his fifth Masters, America’s eyes were glued on them. He squeezed his boy on the same spot his own father hugged him when his dominance began 22 years earlier. Even disinterested people had to know something bigger than a golf tournament just took place.

Woods’ emotional grip on his son culminated a journey back from the sports-dead. He survived an odyssey through self-inflicted moral and broken-body physical drama. The man who walked through throngs of cheering fans on Sunday reflected a man with new perspective. A man humbled by the chance to experience the satisfying relief not just of victory, but also redemption.

If you’ve paid any attention lately, Tiger Woods has the air of a changed man. Somewhere in the debris of what Woods called “some really dark, dark times,” he began to change. He gained perspective, even wisdom. “I felt I had worked hard my entire life and deserved to enjoy all the temptations around me. I felt I was entitled. Thanks to money and fame, I didn’t have to go far to find them. I was wrong. I was foolish.” That’s usually the language of someone starting to get it.

The difficulty of a Masters win, while a great achievement, pales in comparison to the difficulty of admitting fault and moving in a different direction. This week Tiger Woods won the Masters; but sometime in the last few years he might also have acquired the humility to win at life. What can we learn?

We can remember that choices matter.

One single choice can devastate a life. The choice to cheat on your spouse instead of staying faithful. The choice to medicate instead of meditate. The choice to quit instead of try again. The choice to listen to the voices trying to kill, steal, and destroy instead of the voices that bring life.

And one choice in the right direction can heal. The choice to admit wrongdoing. To get help. The choice to ask for forgiveness. To grant it. The choice to restart with God—or at least humble our heart so we even have a chance at hearing Him.

Choices matter. A choice today will set the trajectory for and have implications far into the future. But choices are not final. A bad choice yesterday may bring unavoidable consequences. But a good choice today can still transcend further pain.

Like Tiger Woods, things I regret doing a decade ago stay with me. Still, they don’t have to determine my outcome. Indeed, along with pain they bring wisdom, and a new approach to today.

We need to be reminded that change happens one choice at a time. No singular moment—whether good or bad—defines our life. Across decades, Woods has publicly seen the highest of highs and lowest of lows. Privately he’s made devastating choices affecting his own life and others’. He’s rightfully deserved scorn, abandonment, and rejection.

But he’s also made choices to admit wrong. He’s known patience and longing. Hopelessness and regret. And he worked to make good choices in the midst of those feelings. He knows what resilience means. He has held onto both his family and his mind in pursuit of a comeback.

We can remember that our own hearts are full of self-righteousness.

It takes a certain measure of self-righteous audacity to root against Tiger Woods, hoping to see his misery and struggle continue. He’s been publicly guilty of the worst of today’s social sins—lying, womanizing, being elitist, being arrogantly smug. It’s a list that’s satisfying to judge, especially from a perceived place of moral superiority. In the midst of much celebration, plenty of his past still circulates on social media. Even after Woods’ comeback.

I suppose we all have something of this in us—it’s part of our heritage as humans. Knee jerk judgment comes easy. It’s easy to ignore our own hearts when judging others’.

The prodigal’s older brother couldn’t stand the thought of his sinful brother being showered with blessing. Jonah resented God and hated the Ninevites when they repented. The Pharisees were always ready to cast the first stone. We love judgment for wrongdoing, as long as it isn’t directed at us: “Judgment for others, mercy for us.”

But if we find ourselves slogging through awareness of shortcoming and brokenness, we cheer for Tiger Woods because he’s a larger-than-life version of ourselves. At its juicy core, isn’t his story just our story? Entitlement. Lust. Lies. Betrayal. Addiction. Shame. Pride. Fear. Broken relationships.

The worst of his story amplifies the worst found in all of us at different times and in different ways. We operate with different amounts of money, resources, and attention, but it’s all the same stuff.

And it produces the same results: broken body, broken emotions, broken spirit.

Maybe that’s why so many people wind up cheering for Woods after all. If you have eyes to see, you’re just as broken as he is. No matter how he did it, his ability to overcome his wasteland gives hope for our own healing.

We can remember that things can change.

My friend Dan Miller uses the phrase “transforming reversals of fortune” to describe how God brings beauty and blessing from the broken moments of our lives, whether we seek Him for them or not.

God makes the crooked paths of our lives straight. He takes the twists and turns of our sinful history and makes something useful, to great effect and great surprise.

And sometimes, when hope is all but lost, when everything seems broken beyond repair, the unexpected quasi-miracle happens. And we’re transformed.

We don’t win an $11 million tournament—we get something better. We see the world differently. Love a little better. We’re kinder. We take time to fist bump a kid. Low five a security guard. Smile and laugh when there are things to be happy about instead of constantly being critical. We forgive—others and ourselves. We appreciate the moment and stop striving. We’re still—and we know there is a God.

We can remember that we desperately need redemption.

Some would call Tiger Woods winning the Masters an example of common grace, a moment where God gives a good blessing to someone without regard for that person’s relationship to Him. I’m not in a position to say. But it’s definitely another reminder of our need for redemption.

It’s a picture of good coming out of bad when all hope was nearly lost. It’s a reminder that the story is never quite finished until it really is over. And that God has ways when there seems to be none.

Woods didn’t verbalize glory to God in his post-Masters speeches or give a theological explanation for his return. But for those with eyes to see, his story illustrates redemption.

What a wonderful irony: A sports icon experiencing a humanly redemptive moment the same week of the greatest spiritual redemption story in history. Tiger’s story resonates with us because we’re hardwired to desperately need saving from ourselves. And we all know it.

It resonates with us because we intuitively know when we’re seeing the long shadow of our greatest need cast in real time. We need our brokenness fixed. Often we need our legacy restored. We need the affirmation of our father, and the unconditional love of our kids. All because of our inability to live our story perfectly.

Each day, events in our own lives remind us of our futile quest to bring about our own righteousness. Sometimes people in popular culture experience a moment that reminds us that, at the hand of God, blessing can arise out of the ashes of our lives.

And once a year, at Easter, we’re reminded that there’s really no other way to be whole. That the redemption, the restoration we most need was accomplished in the most surprising way possible. And that God reversed everyone’s fortune at the cross, where transformation is still possible today.

Ed Uszynski has a PhD in American culture studies. He and his wife Amy speak at the Weekend to Remember getaway®. You can find him on twitter @Uszynski32.

More Pics to Share

Too many to choose from. What a wonderful day. God is good!

Hopping House

Sheila had everyone over after church for Easter. Lots of good food, family, and friends. Great day to remember our Savior and to make sweet memories with my people. Blessed indeed!!