Thanks For The Memories

Psalm 119:55
I remembered Your name in the night, O Lord, and I keep Your law.

Seems as though I have more memories than my brain can hold. Maybe it's time I had a "memory" yard sale, and clean out some of the old ones. But then again, the old ones are the best aren't they?

I remember LeVan Parker and a sermon he preached at Gallant Baptist, when I was a young boy. It had to do with an Olympic runner who finished last. He didn't just finish last...He was so far behind that the official crew as moving things on to the track for the next event. The runner finally entered the stadium and began to move toward the finish line. People were kind of amazed that he was still running. After all, there weren't any medals waiting. There were no records to be broken. Collapsing at the finish line, after he crossed, someone asked why he'd continued to run even though there wasn't any glory or reward for his efforts. The runner replied, "My country sent me here to run this race...not quit." In other words, it was about overcoming and not giving up. That message has stuck with me ever since I heard it long ago on a summer evening. "Don't Quit! Don't give up!"

I remember in the choir at Central Methodist Church. First time I ever wore a choir robe. The song? "Up From The Grave He Arose".  Don't know why, but I remember the goose bumps that came as we sang this song. The funeral like dirge that accompanies the first verse, as you move to the chorus. Laying Jesus in the grave...the tears of those who loved Him....then, victory. "Up from the grave He arose With a mighty triumph ore His foes. He arose a victor of the dark domain, and He lives forever with the Saints to reign. He arose. He arose. Hallelujah, Christ arose."  The song became more than words to me. It became the anthem that I remember and sing when I feel as though darkness is winning. When the world seems to be sliding over the edge into the abyss. I sing it. I sing it in my car. I sing it while I mowing grass. I sing it at the gym. I remember!

I remember what it was like to hold my sons when they were babies. To stare down into those little faces and think to myself. "God, you have given me a life to teach, train, and love". What an incredible thing that God would bring forth life from Vicki and me, and then give us the responsibility of raising this tiny person.  Then I would wonder if God saw me in the same manner. That He had brought forth life in me, and wanted to see me grow and mature in Him. To become the man He created me to be, not the one the world wants to warp and destroy. If I love my sons as much as I do....how much more does my Father in heaven love me? Wowzers!

I am grateful for memories.
The good ones truly outweigh the bad ones.
And in the bad ones, God in His infinite mercy, has removed the shame and guilty that use to be associated with them. Now they are just a memory that has no control over my emotions.
Ain't God good?
Yes, He is.

God on you....
Michael b.