“Remember the wonders He has done” (Psalm 105:5).
My sweetest memories are ones that inspire hope and gratitude. Most of them are from my life before my accident – I recall my hands pressing cool piano keys or plucking the strings of my old guitar or peeling an orange. I guess you could say my favorite memories are about my hands when they worked. Especially holding the reins of my horse.
It was November, and I was 14 years old living on our farm in Maryland. Mr. Cauthorne, our neighbor, invited me to go on a fox hunt. Early that Thursday morning, I saddled up and headed out across the river to Mr. Cauthorne’s big farm. When I arrived, I spotted my elderly friend across the paddock in his red coat, sitting atop his big thoroughbred. The damp morning air was sweet with the scent of oats, hay, and cider. Someone tested a bugle and the hounds became restless.
The horn blasted and I reined my horse behind the hunt master. When we left the cobblestones and hit soft dirt, we spurred our horses into a slow canter. I can still feel my hands holding the reins, and my knees squeezing the saddle; I can hear hooves tearing up clods, the creaking of leather, dogs baying, and horses snorting. I can smell the November air, sharp, dank and earthy; the shaven cornfields and the odor of leaves and mud. I can still feel the lightness in my stomach as we’d gallop toward a stone wall, fly over it, catch our breath, and head for the next fence. Flinging his mane, my horse was never happier. All this… yet we never caught the fox.
I wistfully recall that wonderful day, yet it does not make me sad. True, I haven’t ridden a horse or held reins (or held anything) in over 45 years. The only leather I sit on now is the padding of my wheelchair. My feet aren’t in stirrups; they rest on foot pedals. No cinches around saddles – only cinches around my middle to help me breathe better. The clip-clopping of hooves has been replaced by the click-clacking of wheel-bearings. I don’t hurdle fences; I wheel up ramps. But that’s okay. Lamentations 3:21 unlocks the Spirit-blessed purpose behind my memories, “Yet this I recall to mind and therefore I have hope.”
When you recall the gracious way God has dealt with you in the past, may it inspire thankfulness and hope in your heart.
Our most beautiful memories of moments gifted by God should always inspire hope and gratitude. Fond recollections are my ‘reminders’ of the promise in the Bible that one day soon I will have new hands. I will have fingers that work and feel again, touch and pluck and pick and scrub and dig – hands that will even hold the reins of a horse. Hands that will reach for my husband, Ken. For the first time, I’ll give his hand a squeeze just to see what it feels like. Hands that will reach for my Savior’s where I will literally touch the scars of His sacrifice. It’ll happen! God promises me in Jeremiah 29:11, “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.’” Our best memories should always help give shape to a hopeful future.
Do you have memories of better times or happier days? Sweet memories, for the Christian, should never be a cause for sadness or regret. When you recall the gracious way God has dealt with you in the past, may it inspire thankfulness and hope in your heart. Let those memories help you look forward to the time when God will wipe away every tear and atone for every hurt. Let the past give shape to your glorious future when sorrow and sighing will flee away and everlasting joy will crown your head. Psalm 105:4-5 says, “Remember the wonders He has done.” Remember. And remember again. Then, thank God for the even brighter future about to break on your horizon.
"Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope..." (Lamentations 3:21).
“I thank my God every time I remember” (Philippians 1:3).
There’s power in remembering what God has done in your life – there’s also gratitude.
PRAYER
Lord, help me to use memories to build up my hope for the heavenly future. Thank You for helping me through the present by remembering a pleasant past. Amen.
