This past Saturday I went to the Denver Art Museum to see an exhibit of artifacts from King Tutankhamen’s tomb. Plexiglass boxes housed priceless necklaces and statues; model boats and even a latrine! Narratives along the walls gave background information regarding the life and times of the kings who reigned some three thousand years ago.
One panel made an interesting point. The pharoahs built the pyramids and filled them with treasures to insure their immortality. But the contemporaries of King Tutankhamen, or Tut as we call him now, wanted to erase his name from history. They opposed the changes his father, Ahknaten, had made in their religion; forcing them to abandon their pantheon of gods in favor of worshipping just one god.
Once they died, new kings erased Ahknaten’s and Tut’s names from historical records and wall carvings. Their statues were inscribed with the names of the new pharoahs. The Egyptians hoped to make the world forget these kings existed.
But history had another idea. Although the pyramids have survived and those with an interest in Egyptology know the names of pharoahs like Khufu and Ramses; it is the boy king, the pharoah Egypt wanted us to forget, Tutankhamen, that ALL the world knows.
It got me thinking about what kind of legacy I want to leave behind. Of course, I hope my children will be filled with the love and confidence I’ve tried to give them as well as a foundation of faith that will see them through the trials of life. But what about the world at large? What kind of legacy do I want to leave it? I hope to be known for kindness and generosity-not selfish ambition or pride. But how do I do this? How do I use my time on earth to make it a better place?
I think my problem is I’ve been looking at “the big picture.” Waiting for a calling of some kind that says “this is what you need to do!” But the truth is, we can make a difference each day with how we treat other people and use our time. Maybe if I concentrate on the little things each day, the friendly smile, the encouraging word, maybe then the harder things will get easier. It certainly couldn’t hurt, could it?