We are two and a half weeks away from moving day. As you can imagine, our house is littered with boxes and storage bins, and almost every spare minute is spent filling them. It goes without saying that we have a lot of stuff, pack-rats that we are, but we really are purging as we go. There are interruptions in this process as we find pieces of our past – old letters, pictures, baby clothes, keepsakes. Of course, you have to stop to read or reminisce and then make the decision to keep or toss. Seems like we’re doing more keeping than tossing. Regardless, the packing is going well.
The fact that we are actually moving still seems surreal. We’ve been in this house for twelve years – the longest I have lived in one place in my whole life. One kind of puts roots down in that length of time. But we are carefully digging up those roots and we’ll replant them in our new home. They will grow and new memories will join them.
It’s an adventure.
We are full of anticipation and excitement at the prospect of settling into a beautiful home, getting to know a new city, cultivating new friendships. We see the hand of God leading us. He’s shown us a tiny little bit of what our future looks like, and it’s amazing. We are giddy just thinking about it!
So, a new chapter begins. This is the first home since 1977 that we are establishing without any of our children. This is the first home we’ll have with central air, granite counter tops, stainless steel appliances, and a gorgeous view. This is the first home we’ll have in a city of less than 100,000 people. In some ways, this feels like our first home. Period.
Stay tuned. News and pictures to follow over the next few weeks.
Recently, I’ve had the opportunity to reconnect with a number of long-time friends, remote family members and acquaintances from way back. It’s been so much fun catching up! But something became very evident during the many conversations that took place.
Not everyone remembers like I do.
It was even kind of embarrassing in some cases; bringing up something funny from the past and laughing my guts out only to see that the other person had no idea what I was talking about.
Events that are burned into my memory from thirty, forty, and even fifty years ago have been forgotten by the people who were there with me. How is it that I can see these things happening like it was yesterday, and others have no recollection at all? I don’t get it. Or maybe I do.
Honestly, it’s not that I was born with an amazing memory – I simply purposed from a very early age to remember. It was a conscious effort, even as a young child. I don’t know why I deemed it so important, because I certainly wouldn’t have understood the implications of that decision. I just knew I needed to do it.
I recall telling myself, “Remember this day, remember this conversation, remember how you felt when it happened.”
I do remember. And I still say it to my kids and grandchildren. Because I want them to remember, too.
Now if only I could remember where I put my car keys . . .
It’s a new day.
Whatever happened yesterday is done. Over. Finished. Goodbye.
Time to move on and see what May 24, 2012 will bring.
I heard a sermon years ago that has stuck with me. I don’t remember who the preacher was, but I do remember the gist of his talk. Find a memory in every day. Look for something to make this day different and special from all the others.
I will admit that I haven’t always been very good at doing this, but before I go to bed at night, I like to think back on the day. I recall conversations, interactions, books I’ve read, songs I’ve listened to. And even if the day was not necessarily the best one ever, I can always find something good or fun or precious to remember. When my journal is handy, I write it down.
We tend to race through life. We run from one thing to the next, fulfilling obligations, performing tasks without thinking. We fail to stop and take the time to reflect and enjoy the privilege of just being alive. And when we’re not racing, we’re simply enduring. Existing. Plodding through one day after the other, wishing it were different. We’re either dwelling on the way things were or waiting for what will be. That’s not accepting the gift of today. It’s not living at all.
Today, I am purposely looking for things that will become memories. Good ones. The write-in-your-journal kind.
And if you’re having trouble finding something positive to think about, read this, one of my favourites:
“How blessed is God! And what a blessing he is! He’s the Father of our Master, Jesus Christ, and takes us to the high places of blessing in him. Long before he laid down earth’s foundations, he had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of his love, to be made whole and holy by his love. Long, long ago he decided to adopt us into his family through Jesus Christ. (What pleasure he took in planning this!) He wanted us to enter into the celebration of his lavish gift-giving by the hand of his beloved Son.” – Ephesians 1:3-6 (The Message)
This is a Memory Day!
Amid the challenges that will inevitably present themselves over the next few days, I am looking for the sweet spots. You know, those places where, if only for a moment, everything is right with the world.
In the sweet spots, wonderful memories are made and I keep them close to my heart. I purpose not to allow those treasures to escape through insignificant disturbances that try to distract me from the moments that give life meaning.
Look for them – the sweet spots.
Write them down.