Memories are a precious gem. I can remember almost everything. Growing up, my mother would claim I had selective memory, and to an extent, there’s truth in that. #teenagers
I can remember meeting my husband for the first time, that tall, smiley man. I remember he never quit smiling, and I needed to take a step back to give my neck a break from continuously looking up at this six foot five tall man. He, on the other hand, can barely remember yesterday. It bothers him.
I have a million memories of my great-grandma. She was my foundation, my everything, my WCW/WWF watching, ringside at the Sportatorium, Von Erich loving wrastling partner. One smell, one song can bring her back to life. The memories are as though they happened yesterday. However, she wasn’t perfect. I could also tell you some of the crazy things she spewed in her old age that we chalk up to dementia.
Reading 1 Samuel 31, I began to reflect on good memories and those negative ones that caused me offense. I think it’s interesting to note that both occur at one time and in one setting.
In 1 Samuel, the men of Jabesh Gilead showed gratitude to the then evil King Saul. When King Saul was in his worst and last time of need, these men remembered the good he had done for them and their people many chapters earlier.
And then what?
They took action. The men of Jabesh Gilead journeyed to pay tribute to Saul even if death was an option. They remembered his good times even when this chosen man of God was no longer selected from the Creator above. It gets a little intense in the end, but the message is still alive and well for mommas out there.
Our memories of kindness should outweigh and out stage those negative memories that tend to consume us. We should be faithful to remember the time our parents invested in us and relinquish the negativity. When our friends offend us, we should be smart to remember the times that they didn’t. Easier said than done, but it’s undoubtedly on the list of things to do.
Besides, what good comes from the negative? Dwelling on our past angry elements only allows for those feelings to be passed on to our little ones. I want my children to be secure in their mental health and their identity. For that to happen, I first must model that behavior (heaven help me). So my New Years’ goal is to let go and love more. I won’t tell my kids that my grandma tried to run over my dog. No. I’ll let them know about all of the incredible memories I have of baking with her and shopping for a Judd’s VHS tape (that I still have today).
Is there something you need to forget so you can remember the good? Share your good times below.
