Walking in the Legacy Left Behind

I want to walk in her shoes. I want to follow in her legacy.

Rooting around in the bottom of my closet, I dug out a pair of black boots. I don’t know if I ever saw her wear them, but they were hers. They’re not a pair of shoes that I would have purchased for myself, but when she passed, I took them home.

Today, as the wind blew and the fall leaves rustled, I threw on a thick pair of socks and slid the boots onto my feet. With feet planted in my mother’s shoes, I remembered the path she’d walked. I remembered the woman these shoes had once held.

As a child, she helped point our feet in the right direction. Walking in the footsteps of Christ, she held our hand as we toddled along — until the day came when we learned to walk on our own.

The path was one we’d have to choose to walk — an invitation we’d have to answer for ourselves. But as stepped down that road on our own, our feet had been trained in truth. We knew that in the narrowness of the path, freedom reigned. We knew that though it be difficult, we’d never have to walk alone.

From time to time, the road seemed rough and rocky. The mountains were steep and the valleys big but we knew her prayers helped settle our feet on solid ground. Looking over, we’d see her following in the footsteps of Christ and we’d be reminded of the faithful God who was walking with us too.

When she went to be with Him, she didn’t take this legacy of faith with her. She left it behind for us.

She modeled what it looks like to follow Him.
She showed us what it means to love Jesus passionately.
She taught us what it looks like to live life in constant prayer, to shake the heavens with boldness and to claim victory in Christ.

Walking along in my own motherhood journey, I think about the woman who helped get me here. And as I step into her literal shoes, I want to walk in her legacy too.

These feet of mine may get hot and weary. They may stumble and trip. But they will do so chasing the King. Because from a young age, my mother helped root my identity in the knowledge of the One to whom I belong.

I know whose daughter I am.
Step by step, my feet will follow Him.

 

 

 


*Post originally appeared on the MommyMannegren Facebook Page.
Follow along for more on motherhood, faith, and grief. **

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