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The Fiery Ninja Roller Coaster of Blessing

Picture a fiery ninja riding a grocery cart down a steep road toward a humongous cube of Jell-O™ (to soften the impact and extinguish the fire), and you'll have a pretty good idea of the legacy I plan to leave for my children. Just think of the name I'll pass on — hello, Guinness Book of World Records.

Obviously I've spent some time thinking about the inheritance I can leave my kids, and while I am imagining myself in a ninja costume, I also remember the inheritance my dad has left me. It's not money or a sweet condominium on the beach. It's my education — the opportunity to graduate from college debt-free — and my memories. My inheritance is not a future expectation, but present in my daily life.

Schooling in the Madhouse

It's no shock to see a student on my campus dressed up as a giant blood drop, a giant kidney, a zebra, or just walking across campus in nothing but tinfoil. Some of these people do it for fundraisers and blood drives, while others dress up for the attention. Though these sights might provide evidence to the contrary, the university does offer an excellent education — the importance of which my parents have always emphasized. And, now that I'm almost done with college, I finally agree.

My parents prepared me for college through home schooling, and they took that opportunity to teach me more than school stuff — they taught me about life: how to save money, how to budget, how to be kind, how to mow the lawn, why you shouldn't coat matches in rubber cement before lighting them, and why you shouldn't use plastic pulleys on a zipline (they melt, leaving you stuck 20 feet off the ground). Time after time, they taught me to love wisdom and knowledge, and to love God and my neighbor.

Freedom … ness

My dad is also giving me the gift of "debt-freedomness," which I hope will become a real word someday. I admit that I can't yet grasp the enormity of this gift, but if I had asked Dad for a birthday/Christmas/wedding/hello-welcome-to-life gift, I probably would've blown it on a telepathic reindeer (which I still hope to buy someday), rather than preparing myself to end college with a positive bank balance. My father's heart is tender, caring, and sacrificial — a reflection of the Father's heart — he wants to do this for me. His love is not hollow, but manifests itself in many ways. Then it becomes my honor to accept his gifts, and to be thankful for them.

Then there are memories, the most valuable portion of my inheritance. Some of my most fond moments come from the three years I spent living in Hershey, Pa., surrounded by history and chocolate. As a home schooler, I was able to visit Plymouth Rock, Gettysburg, Washington D.C., and Gettysburg again and again and … I also made almost daily trips to the Chocolate Factory for the free piece of fun-size candy at the end of the "How We Make Chocolate" ride (I went through it an average of five times per visit). The best trip, though, was to Philadelphia.

Necessities

Dad liked to be thorough, making sure we had everything we might need on the trip. One of those "necessary" items happened to be shoes. As my family piled into the minivan, Dad asked, "Will, do you have your shoes?"

At the time, I thought it seemed like a silly question. Of course I had my shoes — sure, I was barefoot, but I was sure I had stuck them in my backpack … somewhere … I think at the bottom.

Dad parked the car after our two-hour drive, and we started to pile out, ready for a full day of tourism — fanny packs and all. Then, from somewhere in the back of the van, a quiet voice (it might have been mine) piped up.

"Dad? I forgot my shoes."

I can remember the color of Dad's face. I can remember the laughter of everyone else in the car. I can remember plodding around Philadelphia in an extra pair of my oldest brother's shoes — size 37 if I remember right. And the trip was great — one we made while on a shoestring budget (except for me; I was usually in the shoe looking for stuff).

The trip was a sacrifice of Dad's time and money, but it was worth it — I gained one of the happiest memories during my time in Pennsylvania. As an adult, I am grateful for so many happy memories: moving, blizzards, road trips, pets, Burger King every Sunday, lunch with Mom and Dad every weekday. These are things I will never forget, and they are memories I would never trade.

Invincible Inheritance

Jesus says, "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Matthew 6:19-21, NASB). My memories are invincible to moths and to rust. Thieves cannot break into my mind and take them. The only danger is if I stop taking the time to remember. Therefore, I choose to remember: My remembrances are my inheritance, and I can uses pieces of it as I go, knowing that the more I use it, the stronger and more valuable it becomes.

Proverbs 13:22 says, "A good man leaves an inheritance for his children's children…" My parents have been doing this my whole life, and I intend to do it for my own children. It requires sacrifice — every form of inheritance requires sacrifice, not from the inheritor, but from the one who gives the inheritance — and it requires time (Proverbs 20:21). When I think of my childhood, I praise God, and I thank Him for a father who was willing to sacrifice. I thank them both for my good memories.

Continuity of Blessing

What should I do with my inheritance? Use it. It is a gift, and it blesses the giver when the recipient uses the gift. I have a relative with Alzheimer's who is losing his ability to remember. If I ever get to that place, I want to have a lot of good memories to forget. I should also increase my inheritance, as the wise men in Jesus' parables of the ten talents (Matthew 25:14-30). This means being a good steward of my mind, my education, and my money. I can propagate it, gaining wisdom and knowledge to make my inheritance grow (Proverbs 17:6).

Lastly, I should pass it on (Proverbs 13:22). This is a privilege that many do not have. My childhood memories are intensely happy, but I know others whose pasts are to the contrary. Still there is hope. If inheritance is a thread, passing from generation to generation, then you have a choice to begin the thread, pass the thread on, or break it where it stands. This is the hope for the fatherless — that they can begin a new thread of inheritance, because every person has some inheritance from the Lord — of inestimable value. If a person searches, they can discover what it is they can pass on. Remember the value of memories. Remember the value of raising a child in the knowledge of the love of Christ. If a thread exists, do not break it. Where no thread exists, ask the Father to help you create one.

C O F F E E  S H O P

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What memories have been a blessing to you from your parents?

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The blessings I have received are not my own. They began with my grandfather years ago, and his grandfather before that. The sacrifices my ancestors have made are mysteries to me, but I am sure that I am experiencing their effects today. Much like the continuity of freedom, blessings can live on whether or not we notice them. As each father has been faithful to propagate some inheritance, the father after him has more to give. Discover your inheritance; consider what you have to give, and then make the necessary sacrifices to give it. Years down the line, your child will be smiling as he remembers touring Philadelphia in an oversized pair of tennis shoes.

And years down the line, my own children will smile as they remember their father, the screaming fiery ninja in the book of world records.