We Have a Choice in How We Remember

Let me tell you what I know about memories.  What I know is that I experience memories very intensely.  I was recently watching a video that my brother had recorded on the day after my nephew took his first steps.  Oh, the flood of emotion, hearing  Bob's voice after all of these years as he spoke to Josh on the video.  I couldn't see Bob's face, but I didn't need to.  I could hear him encouraging his son to walk to him.  I could hear his laughter as Josh fell down, time and time again. There are no words to describe the memories that came back to  me just from hearing his voice.  I remembered the night before he died, and all the words he said to me around his kitchen table.  There were really good words.  My brother encouraged me that night.  He told me that he was proud of me.  He told me that he knew how hard I had been fighting to get my life back under control and he wanted me to see the progress I was making.  I also remember the really hard words that my brother said to me that night.  He made me promise him that if anything ever happened to him, that I would take care of his son.  I blew him off, of course.  Why were we talking about these things when my brother was only 26 and I was only 22?  I pretty much just told him to shut up....but he insisted.  Of course I would take care of Josh, I loved him like he were my own.  With that response, my brother was satisfied.

The other night, watching the video, my mind wanted to take me to a dark place.  It wanted to take me to the moment, not 12 hours later, when a reckless driver took my brother's life right before my eyes. Every fiber of my being, every dendrite, was firing off as fast as it could in my body.  I started to feel all of my senses coming to life.  In the past, if I allowed it, I would have been standing right back at the scene of the accident.  Smelling the carnage, hearing the sirens, seeing my nephew's sweet face in the back of my brother's car, still strapped in.  Not this time!! This time, I decided not to allow the wonderful memories of my brother's voice and my brother's laughter to turn into memories of all that I had lost.  I chose to reflect back on those memories and look for all of the amazing ways that God showed up.  I didn't even know God back then...but He knew me...and He was there, even in the midst of that chaos.  Even when I couldn't see Him.  He orchestrated that conversation between Bob and I, the night before He died.  Bob would have no way of knowing that he was going to die, in a matter of hours, in a tragic car accident.  My brother had said a lot of nice things to me in the past, but he had never told me that he was proud of me.  Oh how I hung on to those words over the years. My promise to my brother that night, to take care of his son, changed me forever.  God used every ounce of it to draw me to Him.

I guess I'm not sure why I am sharing all of this, except for maybe to say....we have a choice.  God has me walking through a season of remembering.  I have been  flooded with memories of some really hard times and some really great loss.  I could let each memory overwhelm me and take me to a sad/dark place or I can choose, for once, to seek out the good things that happened in that time and place, or as a result of it.  God can and does bring amazing things out of even the hardest times.  I pray that you'll let Him show you the good that has come from some of the hard things that you've walked through or are walking through now.  When hard memories come back to your mind, try to redirect them and find the good in them.   Ask Him to show you.