Remembering the past well
By Elijah Faris · Contributing Writer
Immediately before writing this article, I had an almost invariably relatable experience. Have you ever sat down to begin working only to immediately remember something you left behind? Perhaps not something merely left behind, but a task left unfinished, a door left open or an email unwritten?
It can seem quite akin to the feeling of walking into a room and forgetting your purpose for entering, yet in this case the experience is not based on present forgetfulness but on the awareness of past forgetfulness. You are remembering not only that which you’ve forgotten, but the fact that you’ve forgotten it.
In my particular situation, the forgotten item was a lone Reese’s cup sitting in the front chest pocket of a winter coat in my closet. If it remained there until laundry day, who knows what could have occurred? Nothing good. Forgetfulness is common to all of us, and it may pose a more serious issue than that of neglected coat-pocket candy.
How many of us can recount yesterday’s events? Or last week’s? Or, come to think of it, what about last year’s? Perhaps there are moments that stick out as particularly formative or significant, but most of our memories seem to get lost in a tangled web of associations. As our fallen human memories are neither infallible nor unlimited, it would be foolish to expect perfection of them.
However, the things we choose to intentionally recall can reveal a lot about the condition of our hearts. How often do negative interactions with others end up on repeat in our heads, looping endlessly to offer more opportunities to paint the other person as the “bad guy?” Memories dwelt upon in such a manner make excellent ammunition for complaining.
As we misuse memory to validate our own attitudes, though, we begin to forget about the wider canvas of grace. We are experts at finding ways to minimize God’s goodness in our lives. Even pleasant memories can still provide fuel for discontent, when viewed wrongly.
Comparing our present struggles to the “good old days” is the first step on the way to the assumption that past blessings are somehow representative of what we actually deserve and that our present circumstances are somehow an uncalled-for anomaly. Coveting the past smothers gratitude for God’s previous goodness and present provision.
So how do we reclaim gratitude and break the cycle of forgetfulness? Psalm 77:11-12 gives us an ideal to follow, at the very least. As the psalmist writes: “I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old. I will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds.”
Gratitude remembers the past without cropping God out of the picture. True thankfulness is not simply a warm, fuzzy feeling; it naturally produces a shift in how we view the events that make up our daily lives — whether they be pleasant or painful.
Every day waking up on a four-year college campus, drinking clean water and eating three meals is a completely unmerited gift given freely, with no strings attached. There are people on this planet who currently cannot imagine this kind of existence, yet we quickly become frustrated when trivial aspects of it are disrupted.
Paul’s reminder in 1 Corinthians 6:19 that: “You are not your own” is not merely a passive statement, but part of a call to honor God with our bodies. Guess what? Our brains are part of our bodies. Memories are included in the deal; our remembering ought to be marked by an acute awareness of what God has done for us.
When looking at life through our rearview mirrors, we should perhaps spend more time gazing at the obvious evidence of God’s grace in our lives. There is a lot of it there, plain to see through the lens of
