The mind has always interested me; its mysteries unfathomable. The things it stores and forgets seem so random; and can be the tiniest things in an event.
Personally, I’ve never had a wonderful memory, and for the most part, the things that have stayed with me seem to be either random or depressing.
Sometimes I wonder, in ten years, which of my memories will fade and which will stay?
Too often there have been days so sweet that I’ve closed my eyes and thought, ‘I hope I never forget this feeling, this moment, it’s so beautiful.’ But in a few months, these things seemed to be lost in my mind forever.
And yet, many of the memories that have lingered for so long with me are ones that I’ve never thought much about. They all just seem bizarre.
But the more and deeper I consider why I have the memories I do, the more it makes sense.
I’ve come to believe that just as every event has a reason, every memory we hold does too. And to back up my theory, I’ll show you four examples.
Most of the memories I have are with my family; the ones I hold so close are ones with my brothers in them. When they took me on roller coasters, and brought me along on their outings, they pulled me out of my shell, and tried cheering me up after my sister and sister-in-law both left the family.
Those are the very memories that have stuck with me the longest, and it’s always been a bit strange to remember the smallest things of our relationship.
Until that is, I realized how much those memories really do count in the long run, because those were the very moments that were used to bring me out of my shell, to take risks and dares, to have fun in life, to get shushed by my mum when I laugh and talk really loud like my brothers do. They were the little moments that helped me to just be myself.
On the other hand, I have memories of my sister. Not tons, but ones that remind me of how I wanted a relationship with her, and how I used to look up to her, and wanted to be like her. Those times that made me believe that being gorgeous and getting all the guys was all that mattered in life. Those were the times that caused me to start thinking the wrong way, which I’ve struggled with for so long. Thinking in ways that scarred my views on where true beauty lies and what really matters in life.
And then there are memories with my dad; where he used to hold me in his arms, after I failed at explaining myself in small groups when first challenged on my beliefs. Those talks where he told me that while he was in seminary he would fail at explaining himself, and it was okay to do so; it just meant you needed to work harder at communicating.
And as I look back, I see how much conversations with my dad affected me. It made me become braver; they taught me to speak out and communicate better, and to be firm in my theology.
Last of all, there are those terrible memories that we all hold, the ones we wish we could forget, and yet they stay so clearly in our minds as if we could relive them.
I think those memories are kept to remind us of what great sinners we are, and what a Great Saviour we have. The horrific and disgusting failures in the past are there to remind us of the everlasting grace bestowed upon us. I wouldn’t even need to give you an example here, because we all have them. And though we hate those memories, I believe they are some of the most important; because God’s Mercy is never something to be forgotten or taken lightly.
Thinking through all of those seemingly random examples, especially the ones with my brothers, I have become sure that our memories hold much significance in our lives.
Memories to show us how we’ve come to act and think like we do, to show us how we’ve come to where we are today, and to show us how we were shaped into who we are today.
In conclusion, I believe there is a reason for every memory our minds hold captive; no matter how terrible, or random, or little it may be.