Memories are kind of funny things. A certain smell can take me back to my grandmother’s kitchen so quickly. A thought snapshot brings a flood of memories of my brother. A friend’s name can bring such warmth while remembering something we shared. A certain verse can remind me of something God did as He revealed Himself to me through His word. When I hear a certain song it transports me back to jr. high, the choir I was in and the special times we shared. A book reminds me of struggles shared with colleagues while teaching. Re-visiting a favorite place reminds me of times shared with my husband as we walked along the beach. Driving down a certain road makes me remember teaching my son to drive and the fondness of time with him.

I remember the things I’ve known and though the older I get the fuzzier some of those memories are, they are still precious and they are mine and they are treasures because of the experience and because of the person with whom they are shared.

This week we shared communion in our church body. It is a time to be thankful. A time to ponder. A time to be taken back. A time to remember. In order to truly remember I first must come to know.

I remember my brother because of how well I knew him. I remember my grandmother, my friends, my favorite verses, that song, that book, that ocean view, my husband, my son…I remember because I have known.

I can remember in communion because of how I have come to know Christ in a personal way. I remember what He has done for me, though I will never understand it all until heaven. It’s only because of what I have come to know that I can remember.

I remember His sacrifice. I remember His love. I remember His pain. I remember His humiliation. I remember His suffering. I remember His death. I remember His victory. I remember because He has allowed me to know…to know Him, to get to know Him, to love Him, to grow to love Him more, to hear Him, to sense Him, to be stretched by Him, to be surrounded by Him, to be engulfed by Him, to be consumed by Him, to be held by Him, to be known by Him, to be called by name by Him, to be called His own.

These are the most precious of memories. Not because I was there to experience what He went through but because He has taught me and shown me and let me come to know if only partially for now.

Memories of where God has brought me are what help to keep me grounded. They are also what give me wings. Wings to soar to new heights in Him. Wings to glide in His strength. Wings to carry me through the next memory builder.

“Lord, may I never forget. Please continue to move me forward anticipating all You are going to do. Thank-you for letting me be part of You. May I always remember-You-always You.”

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