By Rebecca van Noppen
(This is the third blog in a series about legacy. You can look back at the previous two articles in the series here:
We did it.
Five days. Over seven bushels of tomatoes and peaches put into jars for the winter. I am done. Physically tired out, but so grateful for the provision and the experience.
Every year at this time, as September begins, fall comes, and school starts, we set our sites on canning and preserving for the winter. It’s kind of in my blood.
Growing up on a fruit farm in Niagara, I watched my mom preserve fruits and vegetables every summer and fall. And I heard the stories. Farming all day. Canning into the wee hours of the morning. My mom and dad making sure that food was put away for the winter. In those early marriage and farming years, they often told me they didn’t have a lot of money but they always had more than enough to eat.
Fast Forward to 2020
I have followed my parent’s example for many years, but this year as I turned 51, I did not want to can or preserve, or plant a garden. I anticipated a summer free of all that. But then Covid-19 hit, and our family decided that planting a garden was prudent. And as the end of August came, the inner clock of summers on the farm in Niagara started ticking. I didn’t just “have to” can and preserve pickled peaches, sweet peaches, tomato salsa, tomato juice, and pickled beets, I wanted to. It is what I watched my mother do. It is what I have been doing every year since I started having children 23 years ago.
And this is what I learned again this week, and I continue to learn. This kind of work takes commitment. It takes a goal, and it takes commitment to get there. In the last two legacy blogs, we looked at what you want to leave behind and how to set those goals by writing an end-of-life story. Understanding our legacy and our immortality is so important. The Psalmist once wrote: Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12 (NIV). So again we ask the question, how do we want to be remembered?
Once we have set those ideas on paper or shared them with a close friend, we look to what it will take to head in that direction. Knowing where we are going, and being committed to that purpose is part of the process.
In looking at my commitment to put food away for the winter, to enjoy homemade salsa in January, I learn a few things about purpose and intentionality. And what I learn about commitment in preserving food for the winter, I can apply to many other areas in my life, including finances.
Commit to the Goal – We are tired now, but when the snow is falling and the cold weather hits, we will enjoy opening a can of “fresh from the garden” eating. The effort will be worth it.
Commit in Community – I couldn’t have done the canning this week without my family and friends beside me. Whether they cut peaches and tomatoes, covered my workload at More Than Enough, or prayed for me, I couldn’t have accomplished this without them.
Commit to Living in the Moment – Take a breath and enjoy each moment. It is such a helpful discipline to focus on the beauty and gift of each moment. This mindful enjoyment, even in the stress and fatigue of “getting the job done” has brought joy and strength to me, and those around me. It’s hard to do, but so worth it.
Commit to Letting Go – When I committed to gardening, canning and preserving this year, I committed to letting go of other things that simply couldn’t get done – or if they did get done, it didn’t look perfect. Laundry has piled up, the floors have been sticky, and the beds have gone unmade some days. Supper time has been a bowl in hand while standing at the kitchen counter. Commitment in one area, means letting go in others.
Commit to Persevering – By Friday afternoon, I was physically and mentally done. So, instead of cutting another basket of tomatoes I went to bed for an hour. My family doesn’t need a grumpy mother. I knew more work was coming and a nap was as important as water. Commit to persevere through the challenges and fatigue. Persevering sometimes means pushing through, but it can also mean taking a nap!
So how do you want to be remembered? What are you leaving behind? Discover it, step towards it, and commit.