Today at church, Jeff Adams talked about Remembering (we're on the 7th stanza of Psalm 119). I love when people talk about memories or remembering things because I love to hear stories. As we get older, our memory tends to wain on the everyday things, but you will remember what is important to you or that which has impacted your life. You may not be able to recall a teacher's name from elementary school, but you can remember the name of the boy or girl you had a crush on at the time.
I remember when I first realized I hated yelling and fighting. I was 4 or 5 years old and watched as my mother and father fought in front of me and whoever else was there, each one yelling to be heard over the other. I stood between them looking up and watching their faces, thinking to myself, "Stop fighting." My dad at last had had enough and reached out and hit the coffee cup my mother was holding up and out of her hand. Coffee sprayed everywhere on the floor and on the ceiling. My mom whispered in aggravation as she walked away, "I just washed the ceiling". I hated hearing my parents fight, so much so that to this day whenever I hear anyone fight or yell my heart starts pounding and I shake.
I remember the first time I correctly tied my shoes by myself. My dad was doing laundry and I sat on the cement floor of the basement and finally achieved success with the blasted white shoelace.
I remember the first boy I held hands with. Derek Sharp came up to me in fifth grade, at the skating rink on my birthday and asked if I want to skate with him during the slow song. (heart flutter)
I remember the night I got saved. I woke up from a night mare. In this nightmare my hands and feet had been bound behind me and I had a gag in my mouth. I had been dropped into a red lake on fire. I was drowning and burning at the same time. When I woke, I knew that my soul was still not in the safety of Christ.
I remember the first boy I kissed. It was an accident, that then became purposeful. Ha
I remember when I decided that I wanted to be a Woman of God. My first true friend, Emily Duggan, was all about this "virtuous woman". As I watched her, I saw something that was different and I wanted what she had.
I remember the first time someone told me I had a pretty voice. Richie Briggs came up to me in 6th grade after praise and told me, "You have a beautiful voice. Keep singing". So I did.
I remember the first time I heard and understood that God was speaking to me from His Word. I was in Lima, Peru with a group from church to visit and encourage some missionaries that had been sent out. After being there just a day, I lost my voice. I have never lost my voice like this. I wasn't sick and I hadn't blown my voice out my singing or yelling. It was just gone, and all I had left was an airy squeak that no one wanted to hear (or could hear). The next day I'm completely aggravated and open up to Ecclesiastes 5. After reading the first part of the chapter I realized that God was saying, "Shut up." Ha Now that was a hard lesson to learn, but I'm so thankful for it.
These things I remember and they have shaped my life. They have molded me; some have softened me and others have hardened me in both good and bad ways. Sometimes all I can remember are the bad things; my parents divorce, the struggles and circumstances that we dealt with growing up. But...when I take myself out of the "poor me" state, and take a look from a different perspective, I can see how those things can be used and brought to remembrance so that God can get the glory he deserves.
What I learned today: I need to be purposed to make memories so that they can be recalled to me when I need them by the Spirit. "You've got to put something into remembrance in order for it to be brought to remembrance." That can be scripture, that can be experiences, anything.
So I would ask you, what have to put into memory that can be used or is worth remembering? When I'm old I want to be able to tell you more than just what happened on my birthday when a boy held my hand, and that my parents fought, or that I had to walk to school, up hill, in the snow, barefoot...both ways. :-)
I want to have memories to draw on that will be worth talking about...
No comments:
Post a Comment