What Is Your Legacy?
Sometimes in woodworking, you start with a great idea: the sketch is drawn, the wood is chosen, and everything is laid out. And then—absolutely nothing goes according to plan! You could throw the whole thing out and start over, but more often than not, if you keep working with what’s in front of you, you end up building something even better than what you first imagined.
Legacy often works like that. You set out to accomplish this great plan, but in the working, you make mistakes, wonder if you should quit, and then discover along the way that the unexpected is greater than the original design.
The word legacy goes back to the Latin legatus—a person sent to act on someone else’s behalf. In ancient Rome, a legatus might be an ambassador, a trusted envoy, or even a military commander carrying out a leader’s orders. Over time, the word took on another shade of meaning: a bequest—something left in a will for those who come after. That’s the sense we know today, where a legacy can be both the mission you pass on and the inheritance, tangible or not, that tells your story long after you’re gone.
In this episode, we talk about how legacy is more than a single “capstone” achievement and how, in small towns especially, its ripples are amplified. We call it the “wave pool effect.” In a backyard swimming pool, a few splashes can send waves over the edge. But in the open ocean, those same motions barely register. Small towns are the pools where intentional work—parks built, businesses started, traditions kept—can make waves that last for generations.
You’ll hear:
• The origin of the word legacy
• Why everyone leaves a legacy—good or bad
• The “wave pool effect” of small-town impact
• How faith shapes an eternal legacy
• Why diligence is the key to doing anything well
For me, the most important part of legacy is its eternal dimension—what am I doing today that brings glory to God through Jesus Christ? Even that kind of legacy is built one day at a time—“while it is called today.”
As Jim always says,—“Nothing is better than a life of utmost diligence.” That’s how I hope to be remembered: doing the work in front of me today with all diligence—whether building a hotel with my best friends, wrestling my kids on the living room floor, or fixing the leaky showerhead in our upstairs bathroom.
Thanks for joining us as we continue exploring what it means to live for something lasting.
-Josh Nowell
