When They Open My Boxes, I Hope They Find Jesus

One unexpected blessing of retirement has been something I never really planned for…time. Time to clean out the closets. Time to sort through bookshelves. Time to crawl under beds and pull out boxes that haven’t seen daylight in years. Honestly, it’s been refreshing.

I’ve created piles labeled Thrift Shop, Yard Sale, Storage, and, let’s be honest…Trash.

Some things have been easy to let go of. Others? Not so much. As I’ve packed the boxes marked “Storage,” I’ve started using a Smart Label system so I’ll know exactly what’s inside. But then another thought crossed my mind…

What if these boxes aren’t opened again until after I’m long gone? That may sound a little morbid, but it made me smile. So now, tucked inside many of those boxes are little handwritten notes. They simply explain what’s inside, why I kept it, and then end with these words: “Please do what you want with this.”

No guilt. No expectations. Just a little glimpse into my heart.

It reminded me of something I treasured after my own “Ma” passed away. I found her diaries. Those pages became priceless. Not because they contained family secrets or extraordinary adventures, but because they told the story of an ordinary woman faithfully living her life. I remember clearly, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. For hours. I read about her joys. Her struggles. The little everyday moments. Things I never would have known if she hadn’t written them down. Those journals became far more valuable than any keepsake she left behind.

What Are You Really Leaving Behind?

It made me stop and ask myself: If my family opened a box tomorrow…What would they learn about me? Would they know what I believed? Would they know how often God answered my prayers? Would they know what brought me joy? Would they know how much I loved them?Or would they simply find…stuff?

Psalm 78:4 says: “We will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, His power, and the wonders He has done.”

Our stories matter. Our faith journeys matter. Our handwritten notes, well-worn Bibles, journals, and prayers may become the very things that point someone we love toward Jesus.

As I sorted through things today, I realized maybe what we’re really leaving behind isn’t our stuff. It’s our story. It’s our faith. It’s the lessons God taught us along the way. It’s the evidence that He was faithful in every season.

Today I also came across something from Passionate Penny Pincher that I immediately ordered. It’s a notebook designed for sermon notes and Bible study, and I knew instantly it was something I would use.

Every Sunday, every Bible study, every message seems to leave me with a thought I don’t want to lose. Sometimes it’s a verse that speaks directly to my heart. Sometimes it’s a question God is asking me. Sometimes it’s simply a reminder that I needed that day. Instead of those notes being scattered on scraps of paper or tucked into different Bibles, they’ll now have one home.

And who knows…Maybe one day my children or grandchildren will flip through those pages. Maybe they’ll read about what God was teaching me. Maybe they’ll see verses that carried me through difficult seasons. Maybe they’ll discover that even when life wasn’t easy, God never stopped being faithful. That thought means far more to me than whether they keep my dishes, decorations, or old photo albums.

As I labeled another box, I found myself praying that one day, when my children or grandchildren open these boxes, they won’t just see my things. I hope they’ll see Jesus. I hope they’ll see how much I loved Him. How I praised Him through both the joyful seasons and the difficult ones. How I wasn’t perfect. How I made plenty of mistakes. How I stumbled more than once. But I also hope they’ll see that I found my way back to my Lord and Savior…and that because of His grace, He continued changing my heart and making me a better person.

Maybe they’ll find one of my many Bibles with worn pages and highlighted verses. A bookmark tucked between favorite Scriptures. A wooden cross I’ve carried from place to place. A shirt with a Bible verse printed across the front. A journal filled with prayers. Pages of sermon notes that remind me of what God was teaching me in that season. And maybe even a miniature Jesus 😀

To someone else, they may just look like ordinary things. But I hope my family sees something much bigger. I hope they see a woman who loved Jesus with her whole heart.

As I was writing this, I was listening to Jelly Roll’s new song, “Hands Up.” One line after another reminded me exactly how I want to live my life. Every day is another opportunity to put our hands up in praise—not because life is perfect, but because God is.

We don’t have to carry the weight of trying to earn His love. We simply accept His grace. We remember the truth that we are His children. Again and again.

If my family remembers anything about me long after I’m gone, I pray it isn’t what was inside the boxes. I pray they remember the One who filled my heart. So yes…I’m cleaning closets. I’m organizing boxes. I’m letting go of clutter. But maybe, without even realizing it, God is helping me organize something much more important.

My legacy.

I’d love to hear from you. Have you ever discovered something after a loved one passed away that made you feel close to them—a letter, a journal, a Bible with notes in the margins, or even a simple recipe card?

Or maybe this post has you thinking… What do you hope your family discovers about your life and your faith one day? I’d love to read your thoughts in the comments.

Lord, I am here. Help me live today in such a way that what I leave behind points someone to You. Amen.