Memories

A few times during these past weeks, my husband and I have been flipping through all the pictures on his iPad. Pictures that go back to months ago. Pictures taken in a house that we no longer live in. And the tiny apartment before that. Pictures with a 3-year-old who was much too grown up for her age. A two-year-old with such sad eyes who never smiled. The baby who is now a toddler. That bubble bath with splashes and giggles. Their first beds. The new toy. The first Christmas together as a family. The first Christmas together as a couple. That crazy Christmas vacation. The first rooms we decorated together as a couple. The first time we met the little girls who now hold such a huge place in our hearts and lives.

Pictures that make us remember things we had forgotten.

Each time we look through pictures that seem to be further back than my mind can remember, I end up very emotional because I know that there are things that I have forgotten that cannot be remembered simply by looking at a picture.

The truth of the matter is that some memories simply cannot be captured in a snapshot. The way my heart melts when one of my little ones smile up into my eyes. The joy of a husband who comes to find and kiss me when he gets home each evening. The sound of my oldest randomly saying, “Mommy, thank you for cooking this delicious supper!” The ecstasy of potty training successes. Stealing a precious moment with the hubby while the girls are watching a little TV show. The sweet smell of freshly lotioned girls during cuddle time. Hearing the first sentence. The feel of little arms around my neck. Seeing the way adoring eyes light up when Daddy walks into the room. Watching a wonderful husband be transformed into an amazing daddy. The ache of my heart when I see their pain. The joy of sharing in their victories over struggle.

The reality of this truth spurs me to a unique kind of action. The action of slowing down and savouring each moment with these precious gifts. My husband. Each of my precious children. This crazy time of life. All of these things are precious gifts from God that cannot be taken for granted or simply rushed through. Each moment has been given for me to cherish. And in that truth, I remember that this life is temporary. Even as I focus on how blessed I am or how much I cherish each moment, it simply is not enough. I long to know my Saviour. Truly know Him. I long to be perfectly transformed into His image. The way He designed me to be. And... I long for a perfect memory. One that can truly appreciate and remember how much He has done for and given to me.

Worn

“I'm tired I'm worn

My heart is heavy

From the work it takes to keep on breathing

I've made mistakes

I've let my hope fail

My soul feels crushed by the weight of this world

I know I need to lift my eyes up

But I'm to weak

Life just won't let up

And I know that You can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That You can mend a heart that's frail and torn

I want to know a song can rise from ashes of a broken life

And all that's dead inside can be reborn

Cause I'm worn”

 

It seems these days that this is the song my heart is singing. The world is broken. Hearts are hurting. Innocent children suffer. Memories bring shame and pain. Sleep is not a place of rest. Fear seeks a foothold. Hiding seems best.

 

And yet, although all of this is one reality in my life, it is not the only reality. The true cry of this song is one that is filled with the hope of the surety of God’s promises. God’s promises that redemption will win. God’s promises that songs can rise from ashes. God’s promises that dead can be reborn. God’s promises that the struggle will end.

“...that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death…”   

~Philippians 3:10

A wise and godly woman once read this verse to me. She told me that we cannot really know Christ until we have not only known Him through the power of His resurrection, but in the fellowship of His suffering. She said that just like precious jewels glimmer most beautifully against a black backdrop, so the power of Christ’s resurrection is reflected in full splendor against the backdrop of His suffering.

And so, while my heart yearns for the end of the struggle, for the redemption, and for the final resurrection, it is also resting in the precious fellowship with my Savior that can only be found in suffering. There is a certain and wonderful joy in saying the words “I’m worn,” as it is at the end of myself that I see the grace of my God in full view.

“...that I may know Him…”