Remembering hurts.
Memories sting. Nostalgia is painful. Recollection can bite.
Not all the time, of course. But right now? Yes.
My journal is filled with pages of remembering.
Remembering what God has done.
Remembering what I pray He will do (in me, in our church, in my girls, in our country, in the nations).
Remembering His promises.
Remembering victories.
Remembering His faithfulness.
Remembering losses (during which He was just as faithful as during the victories).
Remembering what I wish I could forget.
Have you ever wanted to forget moments? It’s not that you wish they hadn’t happened necessarily—maybe you’re even thankful for the lessons learned during that time—you just would love to stop reliving the moments in your mind? I’m there.
I just want to forget.
But that’s not healthy. And I really want to be healthy.
So what does God do?
He makes me remember.
He makes me face the hurts and bruises, the letdowns and the pain.
He makes me acknowledge the lies I’ve given into, the decisions I’ve made, the consequences that came as a result.
He makes me look back, not to stay there, but to recount His integrity and recall His presence so, moving forward, perhaps I’ll remember that a little faster.
And, in every pain-soaked second, He makes me remember the Gospel.
He reminds me of:
the One well-acquainted with grief and loss and disappointment.
Hope (the tomb didn’t stay sealed).
joy (deep, real and abiding).
love—the never-will-I-leave-you-or-forsake-you kind of love—that strengthens and establishes your very person.
He reminds me that:
this season wasn’t wasted and that it was not only right but good.
He is my portion, He holds my lot, He fills my cup.
He purges not to injure but to replenish.
He is bigger than my failures and that, because of Christ, He can redeem even those.
He is the Master Editor.
He created emotions, so they shouldn’t be buried but corralled correctly.
He provides every single thing necessary for our highest joy.
every circumstance is a tool in the hands of a loving Father to shape us more and more into the image of Christ (Ephesians 4:13, 2 Corinthians 3:17-18).
He reminds me, through Andrew Peterson and Isaiah 55, that spring is coming and no seed will be wasted.
So I sit and sip hot chocolate (with extra marshmallows) while the snow falls outside my window and let the memories come (soul, forget not all His benefits [Psalm 103:2]).
And peace envelopes like a warm blanket. The word of the Lord will not return void. These branches will bear fruit. The harvest will come (may He find us faithful). Light will win.
He reminds me that He is good and it is well.
Sophie Miller 