Today, I bring to you a very special edition of Make it Monday.  If you read and complete NO other Make it Mondays but this one--you've done the most important one EVER.  I mean it.  This is imperative.  It could change history.  It could change your future.  It could change your life.  And, I promise--I am NOT overstating or overselling this.  

What I challenge you to make today was my Dad's specialty.  And, no--it's not one of his AH-MAZ-ING meals that he made up as he went along.  Nope.  See, he never wrote those recipes down.  So, they are forever lost.  If you've followed me here for long--or even the last few posts--then you know that today marks 22 years since my Dad died.   Today, I am going to share a recipe of sorts--and like I said--it's a MUST make.  So, read on--and give it a try.

Today's Make it Mondays...memories.  One simple word.  With both lifelong and eternal significance.  Memories.  Those things that outlast any dish you might crave or craft you might create.  Memories outlive you.  Trust me on this...when you are gone, what you leave your children and grandchildren and friends and family are the memories you made with them.  Not the tasks you completed.  Not the job promotions.  Not even any monetary gain of an inheritance can compare to the treasure of memories that you leave behind.   Sometimes, I think we live in a culture that is losing the art of making memories.  Because for all the connectedness we gain through cell phones, iTouches, iPads, and Blackberries...we are losing our connectedness to each other.  We are losing the amazing opportunities to make memories.  

My dad did it well.  As if he knew that he had only 47 years to walk this earth.  If you would indulge me while I share some of his secrets.   From an early age, my dad made a point to make the most important memory any parent can make with a child.  He pointed me to Christ.  He told and showed what it was to choose to follow Jesus.   He lived it out every day.  Throughout his life.  He and my mom taught me what it was to be a believer.  That's the most important memory you can make with anyone you know--and those you don't.  Make the eternal memory of leading others to the Cross.

Another secret of Dad's?  Making memories of just being with me.  Taking time for me.  To get jelly filled donuts at Dunkin' Donuts when we lived in Rhode Island.  Or making sand castles on the beach when we lived in Hawaii.  Or endless games of Scrabble, laying on the floor in our living room.  How about the tireless games of H-O-R-S-E in my drive way to try to fine tune my basketball skills?  Driving me to early morning drill team practice.  And picking me up with the radio blaring the song I'd been practicing for drill team try-outs.  Yep, the song I was so sick of I could throw up--for the hundreds of times I'd listened to it.  So, he requested it at the radio station so it'd play when he came to get me.  The way he hosted my friends by cooking for them.  Or the dozens of times he drove me to basketball or football games--even 1-2 hours each way--although he obviously had other things to do.  But, no, he was taking time to just be with me.

And, here's a biggie for any parent.  The memories he made of being there to cheer me on.  Sure, I danced on drill team for 3 years.  But, I can hardly remember a time he wasn't at a football game.  Even though our district games might be hours away.  And, he'd have to sit on those hard wood bleachers throughout an entire football game just to watch my 3 minute half-time routine.  But, he knew the importance of making those memories when I knew he was in my corner.  And, he endured Honor Society banquets for several years in a row.  How could we know those would be our only real "dates"?  

One other secret to memories my dad knew well.  How to sit with me through my pain and heartaches.  Literally.  My migraines started when I was 12.  Dad would leave work, come get me and drive me home.  He would literally sit by my side, holding my hand, pressing a cool rag to my head.  He would not leave until I had finally drifted to sleep.  Dad was a man who knew how to sit quietly with the hurting.  He had the wisdom to know he couldn't fix everything.  But, just being with those in need is the best ministry of all.  He was the police chaplain for 5 years--fielding calls in the middle of the night.  To go sit at the hospital.  Or to buy dinner for a drifter and sit with them to hear their story.  The only time I can ever remember him using a credit card was to buy gas for a lady in our church who needed to get to MD Anderson for chemo.  Dad knew an amazing secret to life.  Being there for people in the good and the bad--never leaving--that is how to be Jesus.  Dad put people before tasks.  He knew what it was to be Christ's hands and feet.  He knew where to invest his time where it mattered most.  

Glimpse of grace:  We all live at the "speed of life"--this busy, busy life full of appointments, tasks, calendars, obligations.  We are forever connected to our technology.  But, are we connected to our loved ones?  We make excuses.  We make plans.  We make tasks lists. But, do we make memories?  I am so guilty of this pitfall.  I'd be rich if I had a dime for every time I tell my kids, "I'll be there in a minute--let me finish this first."  That I might be  EVER mindful of the most amazing thing I could ever make--on this Monday--or any day.  Memories.  Those things that will flood their hearts and minds when I am long gone.  My legacy is tied up in the memories I leave behind.  That I might be careful to make good and significant and important ones.  Make it Mondays, bloggy friends.  Today--make a memory!