Every summer, like clockwork, seemingly as soon as the last school bell of the year rang, my church youth group would take off for a week or two of missionary work, followed by another week at Look Up Lodge, a christian camp for youth in Traveler’s Rest, SC. One summer, while at camp, some members of our group were targeted for a lecture on guarding one’s testimony.

The why and what-fores of how this necessary lecture came about are beside the point, but if one were willing to overlook the ironic richness of being delivered a lecture rife with flaming hypocrisy given the situation, one might admit the youth counselor who gave it made some valid points. He reminded us as soon as you say you are a Christian — you are no longer representing yourself, but the Lord, and as His ambassador you are watched, your actions judged by your fellow man.

From the entertainment you choose to consume, to the words you say — the world is watching to see if through your fruit they can come to know the Lord.

Guarding one’s testimony is essentially protecting one’s spiritual reputation, so whether you believe you are going through life representing yourself or a higher power by your actions, at the end of the day your reputation is your legacy — it is the memory, the image of you, that will be carried in the thoughts, and words written, of those left behind.

When I lived in, again, we will call it Redbud, NY, the man, [we will call him Dick Miserskin], who used to own the property my in-laws bought, decided not to move far — choosing to settle just up from their home. Making a point of touting his success, Miserskin built a big house on the hill overlooking the whole street.

From the time my in-laws moved into their new home, all they ever heard about was the miserable Dick Miserskin. Everyone called him Dick, never Mr. Miserskin, and befitting lore, ol’ Dick could only be spoken of in murmured tones.

Because he had owned the house previously, whenever my in-laws did any landscaping, it would kindly be suggested to them by more than one neighbor that they might want to check with Dick about that, as they pointed a barely raised finger in a half-hearted gesture towards the house on the hill. From his elevated vantage point, Miserskin would sit like a fat, self-satisfied judge on his bench, missing precious few changes occurring in the yards and houses on the street below, certainly not a finger pointed, however briefly, in his direction, and everyone knew it.

Often when a person passes away they are remembered kinder than when they still drew breath, but not Dick Miserskin. Instead of the traditional, if only momentary, reverence for the dead, it seemed as though his passing only opened the floodgates of long-held grievances.

People went from speaking of him in hushed, almost fearful tones to seemingly taking an apparent glee in his demise.

Between the lessons of Miserskin and that long ago youth pastor, I have learned it is how you treat people that is remembered — actions truly speak louder than words. It is why the Lord says “You will know them by their fruit.”

My husband never wanted to go to church because of his belief that most people who go are hypocrites. It might be true, but only the Lord knows and can therefore judge the heart. You don’t make the decision to go to church or sit at home and read the Bible on your own for other people. It is a decision made out of love for the Lord, to please Him — just as your reputation is built either out of a desire to please a higher spirit or one’s self.

Every day we forge the image we will leave behind when our life is over. How is yours looking?