Walking along the water’s edge of our pond in the early morning, I allow my mind to wander where it will. Young frogs startled by my sudden presence, scream like little girls as they jump into the brownish-green waters of the pond. Quietly a memory of my sister and I, catching little frogs when we were young, wanders into the vision of my mind’s eye. An old memory clinging, like dewy grass on the souls of my shoes.
Memory can be a powerful thing. It can propel you into the future or chain you to the past.
It can change a sad thought into sudden laughter, or bring a deceased loved one back to life.
Like small petals afloat in the spring breeze are the memories of one’s childhood. Rarely do we see them coming until they light soft and silent on the brow.
Memories are tucked away in the attic of our mind, dusty and cobwebbed, and barely seen in the dimly lit space.
And just like old attic treasure, we them find when we are looking for other things.
Frogs in puddles beneath sliding boards on an old church playground, and I am young again with my sister, wondering if warts will really grow from touching a frogs. Wondering if maybe a prince really comes when you kiss a frog, and how do you know when you fall in love.
I call my sister asking if she remembers the playground, and she laughs right out loud. She brings her own attic finds from her memory.
Place these words on your hearts. Get them deep inside you.
Tie them on your hands and foreheads as a reminder.
Teach them to your children.
Talk about them wherever you are, sitting at home or walking in the street; talk about them from the time you get up in the morning until you fall into bed at night.
Inscribe them on the doorposts and gates of your cities so that you’ll live a long time, and your children with you, on the soil that God promised to give your ancestors for as long as there is a sky over the Earth. (Deuteronomy 11:9)
Words light as air bind relationships strong as steel. The Memory of what God has done in your life is an inheritance to your children. A gift, that cannot be stolen or sold, given to the next generation as an inheritance of memories.
What memories can you share with your children or grandchildren?
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