Memories are killers.
I have a long memory.
Visual with a heavy emphasis on kinesthetic (aka: hands-on), my dominant learning styles (can you tell I am a professor in my spare time?)…anyway, my dominant learning styles lend to remembering a lot–a LOT!
And in that there is wonderfulness…like remembering running full throttle into my great-grandparents’ house to go sit on great grandpa’s lap, my tiny hands trying to master the fastening of the overall buckles as i chattered away, the lingering smell of pipe tobacco from his brown leather chair.
And on the flip side, I remember the hard memories too…that plus fear result in some really thick walls.
Gracious is not my middle name. I will never be accused of being so cheery or positive that people are annoyed by it (too realistic, yes, too positive? no). My systems mind, seeking to make connections and create explanations, continually works to make sense of the world, to understand the lay of the land, and know where to step next (no wonder I am tired!)
That kind of memory remembers the hard things–a LOT. It remembers the pains, the ilks, the insults. It holds on too long, forgives too slowly, and understands the worlds in grays rather than rainbows.
But God…(such a powerful interlude)…but God is changing that. He pushes away the hard memories and reminds me of all the others. Where hurt built walls, God shines a light on the love. Where disappointment and confusion clouded the issues, God cleaned the window pane to reveal the closest of connections.
And when the pounding of heartache threatened to be the only beat to follow, the quiet beating of the Father’s love calmed the pounding, slowed the blood, and returned a flustered soul to peace again.
He wants to let you remember the good. He longs for you to remember the rainbows more than the rain. He desires to show you the freedom in forgiveness, the chains binding your hands and feet will drop away when the key of truth is applied.
Yes, there was hurt. But there was also great joy.
Yes, that person failed you, maybe even on purpose. But the God of all love sustained you. And maybe, just maybe, that person was hurting themselves too much to see what they were doing to you.
The God of all mercy calls you
to change what you remember.
Photo by Sanja Gjenero