There is a danger in forgetting, I’ve learned firsthand.
I think that’s why the Old Testament is so filled with the act of remembering.
I didn’t view it as arrogance, last year, when I announced to a friend over coffee that I was taking a break from reading through the whole Bible. Three years in a row I had opened those pages, but I was running out of time in the morning and something had to give.
The unraveling started out slow, miniscule. I was falling apart before I even realized.
So when I picked up the year-long reading plan again this year, as I held brokenness all around me, it was like those words bound and held together in soft leather on my red kitchen desk began to bind and hold me. Every word seemed new, like an arrow that pierced, not to destroy but to repair.
Over and over I have witnessed, morning after morning, the repetition of the cycle: there is the return to God, the rebuilding of His people, the rejection of God’s commands, the repentance said in brokenness, the rescue of the people of God – and how the rescue is always received with some sort of remembrance.
The weight of our brokenness is overwhelming, how can we ever stand up underneath it?
Unless we remember that there is a Savior.
I stood up during worship at church yesterday, but my spirit was wrestling under the weight of shame. There is an enemy of our souls who accuses night and day and I almost believed his lie that there was no hope for me.
I don’t even remember the song that those around me were singing, but I do remember the image that began to pulse louder within my heart:
She must have heard the voices whispering around her, the accusations of who she was and what she had done. And if she didn’t hear those voices, did her spirit inside of her remind her and call out those names?
I don’t have a jar of perfume to break open and spill out, but I have my words and a desire for a new song to sing.
So I’ll remember and record, because I want to keep my eyes on Jesus.
I’ll keep remembering, because I never want to be so filled with pride again that I stop realizing I need Christ as desperately as I do.
18. Luke 7
19. Jesus is constant in transitions
20. our four
21. Jesus knows our sorrow
22. He is our joy that strengthens
23. Psalm 69
24. Yellow Sparrow dreams
25. the gift of a camera
26. the reminder to remember
29. unexpected lunch date
30. Tony’s love
31. Zee practicing how to cross her eyes
33. Sound of rain on roof
34. All those kittens wandering on the back grass