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Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. Isaiah 43:18
For many of us, the gifts under the tree are opened, the celebrations are over (although some may still happen this week) and we are left with left-overs in the fridge, some after party cleaning and one more thing that can’t be taken away, the memories of time spend together.
Those who know me well know that I’m a bit of a self-proclaimed sap. When our kids left yesterday there was a smile and a knot in the stomach. A smile because our ‘family’ was complete once again, if only for a few hours. A knot because things aren’t the way they used to be.
Oh, the love is still there and stronger. We are so proud of the adults we once carried in our arms. But time was never meant to stand still. Time moves on. A rushing stream has has life, a stagnant pool is lifeless.
Not all memories are good of course. Not all memories are even healthy! Isaiah writes to a people who were in horrible times, yet, he writes with a promise of brighter days ahead. It’s good to visit the past, but don’t live there.
It’s good to laugh at each other and tell those family stories, but don’t forget to form new memories, new stories that your grandchildren can pass on.
It’s even good to remember your mistakes, those things that took you down a road you never thought you’d be on; those roads where you ended up getting stuck in a rut that kept you trapped for days, or months or years. But don’t live there.
Our sovereign God of love allows us to take those side trips as opportunities to be reminded of his love and grace and mercy and forgiveness. Cherish the memories of this holiday season. Look deeper at the hidden blessings you may have received. Then move on. Move on with the promise that times will change, kids will grow, we’ll get old, but our God stays the same. His love never changes. His mercy is new every morning.
2023 may have been a challenge or a blessing. But 2024 is already planned for you by a God who loves you!
Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, descended from David. This is my gospel. 2 Timothy 2:8 (NIV)
Just two little words but they mean all the difference in the world. Two little words that can change how we push forward during those times of grief when a dearly loved person dies and leaves us with a huge hole in our lives, a hole that will never be completely filled.
Two little words that give us strength to endure a relationship that is far from fulfilling; that shatters our dreams; that saps our lives of the energy we need to use our gifts to reach the potential long buried under the sands of time.
Two little words that offer hope as we kneel by the bed of a sick child, or read a letter from a distant son or daughter. Two little words that help us see new light in the midst of old struggle.
Remember Jesus.
Remember the one who promised he would never ever leave you or forsake you. Remember the one who lifts you up, looks you in the eye and says gently, “Then neither do I condemn thee.” Remember the one who stops from his busy schedule to touch you so that you can see. Remember the one who cries with you, rejoices with you and encourages you on the way.
Sitting on the mantle in front of me as I write this is a US Flag folded into a triangle. It’s a special flag given to the families of veterans when they die. The flag is special. Not because of the nation it stands for, or the freedom that flag represents. It’s special because that flag was given when my dad died. Sitting beside that flag is a picture of dad. When I look at those two items there is almost always a memory of all he meant to me, and a reminder that someday we’ll be united again in glory.
Paul, in perhaps his final hours tells his young pastor friend to always remember Jesus. Always take him with you, remember that he is the basis for all we do. He is the motivation for our existence, indeed he is the very reason for our existence.
Take the banner of heaven with you today. Have a picture of Jesus placed firmly in your mind. Regardless of the hurdles you encounter on the journey, he will always be there with you. He’s the shoulder you can cry on; the friend you can vent to; the partner you can celebrate with. He loves you. Never ever forget that, and because of his great love for you, you are always on his mind.
PRAYER: Lord Jesus, I have many challenges ahead of me today. Thank you for the promises you have given me of your constant companionship and unending love. Fill me with your Spirit and empower me to see your way on the journey. Help me remember you. Amen.
It is good to give thanks to the Lord, and sing praises to Your name, O Most High. It is good to tell of Your loving-kindness in the morning, and of how faithful You are at night, with harps, and with music of praise. For You have made me glad by what You have done, O Lord. I will sing for joy at the works of Your hands. Psalm 92:1-4 (NLV)
Over the river and thru the wood, to grandfather’s house we go;
Ah the trip to Grandfather’s house! I grew up in a family of five boys. The whole story of genetics was true. In some ways you could see we were all brothers, in other ways we were different as night and day. Music was a big part of my growing up. Five boys, each who could sing a different part, yet to my dismay didn’t sing nearly often enough because one of us didn’t really like to sing.
Our song came from Jesus, our motivation came from mom. Most of the churches Dad ministered to were small so a pastor’s wife who could play piano was truly an asset.
I used to love to watch mom’s fingers glide up and down the keyboard. I was especially painful to watch the last 25 years of her life as arthritis kept her from the one joy she had: music.
The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh, thru the white and drifted snow, oh!
It was full 90 minute drive to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house. Early in our journey we drove across the St. Croix River and almost as on cue would start to sing this song. There were years we drove that road on glare ice or drifted snow, other years when the weather was warm and pleasant (by northern Wisconsin/Minnesota standards that is).
Over the river and thru the wood, Oh, how the wind does blow!
This was in the years before Black Friday. No respecting store owner or gas station attendant would think of making workers come to work on Thanksgiving Day! So the trip had to be planned out to make sure bathroom breaks and gas stops weren’t necessary. Snacks? Maybe some cereal in a container of some sort. Hand-held video games? DVD players? Sorry. Not even a decent radio station. We were ‘forced’ to spend that entire time singing, talking or enjoying the beauty of God’s creation.
Ah, the things technology and free enterprise have stolen from us…
It stings the toes, and bites the nose, as over the ground we go.
Grandma could never figure out why we always asked to change the channel on the small black and white TV in the corner. She’d be irritated when we’d insist on watching “A bunch of grown men pushing a little ball up and down a field (football) when we could watch real sports (World Wide Wrestling). This in the days of Vern Gagne, The Crusher and the like.
Over the river and thru the wood, to have a first-rate play;
Then there were the football games we played ourselves. Everyone played. Young and old. The driveway was one goal. The lilac bushes the other. The house was out of bounds (as was the outhouse and yes it was ‘in working order’) on one side, Grandpa’s field was the other.
Oh, hear the bell ring, “Ting-a-ling-ling!”
The round oak table in the dining room seemed enormous when I was very young, but seemed to shrink as we grew older and the family grew larger. More and more of the older cousins would be relegated to the living room to eat (no you can’t turn on the TV. This is meal time). But we never took a bite until Grandpa gave thanks.
Grandpa. An old Swedish immigrant who worked hard to build his farmstead along the RumRiver. In his early years he’d go into town and drink too much. His children knew not to cross Grandpa when he’d been drinkin’. Then, he found Jesus. I can still hear his voice tearfully praise his Jesus for all the blessings bestowed upon him as he was surrounded by his legacy.
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day-ay!
The food eaten. The dishes cleaned. The trip to the river taken when weather permitted. This, of course, was reserved for the ‘older cousins’ and any of us young ones they’d choose to take with us. And finally the good-bye’s, smiles by the kids (it’s been a fun day); Tears by the parents (It’s been way too long). Now, as a parent I realize the most tears were probably shed by Grandma and Grandpa when the house grew silent.
Over the river and thru the wood, Trot fast my dapple gray! Spring over the ground, like a hunting hound! For this is Thanksgiving Day.
The first part of the trip home was full of chatter. But one by one we fell asleep and the car grew silent. It had been a good day. Funny how it’s not until years later I realize how good those days really were. Oh, had I cherished the memories more, but even now they are sweet.
Down in the valley with my Savior I would go, Where the flowers are blooming and the sweet waters flow; Everywhere He leads me I would follow, follow on, Walking in His footsteps till the crown be won.
As you crest the hill going down into the small hamlet ofTaylorsFalls, MN you catch a glimpse of theSt. Croix RiverValleygoing to the south for miles. Again, as on cue, we would break out in song, singing the words of this hymn. Now days I prefer mountaintops to valleys, but I can’t drive this road without hearing our voices sing this song.
Happy Thanksgiving. May you cherish the memories of past celebrations as you build memories for the future. Cherish every second for our time here is short. Most of all, don’t forget to thank the One who made all these memories possible.
I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also. 2 Timothy 1:5 (NIV)
To read this blog post you need to start humming ‘The Way We Were’ as sung by Barbra Streisand.
“Memories, light the corners of my mind
Misty watercolor memories of the way we were.
Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind
Smiles we give to one another
For the way we were”
The last couple of months have been a little tough for me. Nothing bad or serious really. The journey has just been a little more than hectic. Unfortunately the thing that has taken the biggest toll has been my writing.
My time away from the pen (er, keyboard) hasn’t been wasted. I’ve enjoyed time with my family, time with my God and time with the great outdoors. So, what did I do this summer? I reminded myself of the importance of memories. The reminders were neither subtle nor painless. Memories, I’ve determined aren’t so plans in life as they are the life in the plans.
This summer my wife, her two daughters and I visited a small state forest campground that she’d gone to in her childhood. Twice a year she and her parents made the five hour pilgrimage north to get away from the city and away from people. It wasn’t a large lake. The fishing wasn’t fantastic, but they always had fish. No TV. No electricity. Not even any cell phone signal. But the place was huge in her mind.
We spent three days there. We did some fishing. It wasn’t great, but we caught enough for a great fish-fry. We re-walked the paths she’d walked and remembered the stories she’d told. We learned how to live without cell phones and electrical outlets.
When we left, my wife (who is nearly as big a sap as I am, but not quite) cried. No tears of regret or sadness, tears of joy. This place was so much a part of her. This place was a large piece of the puzzle that made her who she is. Even though none of us had ever been here, we were all returning to a place in our hearts because it was a place of her heart.
Like the young college student said to me once, “I know my parents loved me. They worked so hard to give us what we needed and wanted. But I don’t have any memories. We didn’t spend time with each other. Everything revolved around activity and not relationship.” His parents had missed the most important thing because activity in and of itself doesn’t build relationship, time together does. And memories come from time together.
As we began our own journey home I thought about what just happened and the verse in 2 Timothy came to mind. Timothy was a special person in Paul’s life. He was grounded in relationship. He was grounded in faith. Those two worked together to make him what he was.
Some say you should never mix religion and politics and that statement is true. Religion is nothing more than rules and politics are the same. But, our relationship with Jesus must permeate every aspect of our lives in order to build the character that will take us through the obstacles of our journey ahead.
I dare say that Timothy’s mother and grandmother didn’t raise Timmy with ministry in mind. They raised him with life in mind. Ministry grew from their efforts to prepare him for life. Each of us has ‘memories in the corners of our minds’. Events that make us who we are today. Some of those may be painful. Use them to comfort others in pain. Some may be happy, share them to life someone’s day. We may never be the ‘way we were’ but regardless, we can use ‘the way we were’ to encourage someone ‘where they are.’
PRAYER: Father God, I look at the path I’ve trod so far in life. I’ve stumbled over plenty of rocks, fallen on some slippery ground and missed a few curves. I thank you for the grace you’ve given me through Jesus to carry on. Help me to use the time I have left to make other’s lives better. In Jesus’ name I pray this, Amen.
We will not hide them from their children; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done. Psalms 78:4
During Old Testament times the stories of God’s deliverance were crucial to reminding each generation of how God worked in the lives of His people. Some of those stories told of great victories over enemies. Some stories told of God’s judgment for sin and a refusal to follow His commands. These stories were a constant reminder of God’s desire to be involved in the lives of His people.
Sometimes, when we read these stories we forget that the people involved in the events had no idea how they would turn out! We have the advantage to read ahead and see how God acted to save His people. They had to live the suspense, fear and anxious moments without knowing ahead of time what would happen.
The stories in the Bible remind us that God is actively involved in our lives and that He expects our lives to be active. Contentment in God’s eyes means that we rest in His provision while at the same time we yearn to grow closer to Him, to see Him work more fully in our lives. He never expects us to be stagnant.
Being a follower of Jesus Christ means that we will never settle for less than what He can give us. Through the working of His Spirit in our lives we can understand more of what He has in store for us. As we seek to grow closer to Him we will meet resistance. The voices within us will tell us we can’t attain the things God has for us. We will feel we aren’t worthy of His blessings. Our failures and weaknesses will seem too large.
Don’t listen to the lies. You are God’s chosen child. He gave all He had through Jesus so that you can rise above the struggles and roadblocks that come into your path. Remind yourself of the stories of how God worked in the past. He can do the same for you today as you grow in your relationship to Him.
PRAYER: Holy God. I remember the Bible Stories of my youth and how you did miracles in common people’s lives. I have to admit that many times I feel that kind of involvement isn’t meant for my life. Forgive me for believing that lie. Help me to draw close to you and to believe that you can and will do a miracle in my life today. Keep me from being content to stay where I am in my walk with you. Amen.
Mike Fisk & Built with Grace 