07/31/2026
Legacy.
It’s something many of us hope to leave, but do we truly understand what that actually means?
This is a signature from the original homesteader of this historic property, dated April 18, 1924. Little did he know that 102 years later, someone would stumble across it and begin to think about the life they once lived.
I don't know who they were. I don't know what their days entailed. I don't know what they accomplished. But I do know they lived well, because their story still echoes today.
I can see it in their engraved messages such as this, and the one next to it that says, “Happy Easter”. I can simply feel the joy.
I can see it in the hand-hewn logs, just imagining the blood, sweat and tears that went into building this home for their family.
I can see it in the Bible left behind, with bookmarks on many scriptures. They looked to the Lord and believed in Him, just as we do.
I can see it in all the trinkets scattered in and around the home, such as drawings by young children, handcrafted slingshots, and old receipts, to name a few.
I can see it in the outbuildings they tended to, like the wild rice shed and trapper cabin.
I can hear it in the stories that have been passed down. Stories of horses pulling these very logs to build the home. Stories of the husband walking 25 miles into town, catching a train to a larger town for supplies, then making the journey home on foot with a 75 pound knapsack on his back. Stories of Native Americans traveling our stretch of river, stopping to trade wild rice for the supplies they needed.
And I feel it, in the warmth and love this house still carries today.
They weren’t out to prove anything.
They just.. lived.
They built this home by hand. They were stewards of this land and their animals. They worked hard, very hard, and raised a large family rooted in faith. They probably weren’t even thinking about leaving behind a legacy, and yet.. they did.
I can't help but think how different that must have been from modern day life. We now live in a culture of consumption. One that's always demanding bigger, better, and richer. It's now about what you achieve and how much you accomplish.
Sometimes I wonder if we've gotten it so wrong that we've actually convinced ourselves this is what God has asked of us.
No.
I think He asks us to be faithful with what we've already been given. To work hard, absolutely, but not to spend our lives chasing more.
Maybe we have confused making a name for ourselves with making a life that matters.
All I can say is, in another 102 years, I hope and pray those who call this place home can feel the love we poured into it, just as I feel the love the prior homesteaders poured into it.
I hope they envision a home once filled with a husband and wife who loved each other deeply, and children who were raised faithfully. I hope they see the well-worn trails, the flourishing gardens, and the riverside we cared for, along with the old outbuildings that once housed dairy goats and bunnies.
I hope they can almost smell fresh bread baking in the kitchen, hear the laughter that echoed through these walls, and somehow know that this wasn't just a house.
It was a home that was deeply loved.
I don't even care if our names are remembered. Rather, I hope we're remembered more for how we lived and loved than for what we accomplished.
That to me, is legacy. 💛
