What Do We Need to Remember Not to Forget?

In our area, snow days are like the Chupacabra. They’re figments of the imagination. But every once in a while, the illusive becomes reality. It’s an unexpected pause. Forced quiet. Everything stills for a moment. The snow invites me to remember. 

Last weekend, my mom celebrated her seventieth birthday. It was a special time filled with memory making and celebration. I stood at the back door and stared out to the patio. Sounds of laughter filled the bustling kitchen as everyone held their posts at pie baking and dinner prep. The sounds faded into the background of my mind as I flashed back to moments when I stood in that exact spot almost five years ago to the day. 

The memories played. My daughter splashing in the hot tub with my mom and dad. Smiles on all faces. Hopes that those moments would be able to be repeated for years to come, but knowing that with dad’s diagnosis time was of the essence. The smell of the roses in bloom that day. The hysterical laughter of my sister and daughter playing in the yard. All of my senses were engaged with the memory of that moment. 

I turned away from the door and sat down at the table. Sitting in that chair sparked another flashback. A memory of a conversation I had with my dad while sitting in that exact chair. His brain tumor confiscated the part of his brain that controlled speech, linguistics, and thought. In those golden moments before that was lost, some of my favorite times spent with dad were chatting over early morning coffee. The house was asleep save for the sound of brewing java and the raising of the blinds to see the sun wink its greeting. 

He asked me pointedly, “What do you dream of doing?” Sip. I shared my dreams of writing, and a deep conversation developed about the importance of sitting by the well. He likened our culture to a Google search. We can find just about anything we want to know in three seconds or less. If it takes more than three seconds, we are frustrated by the lack of instantaneous results. He felt we have lost the art of waiting, and in that moment he impressed upon me the importance of adopting an unhurried pace and waiting on the Lord. His wisdom unfolded as the grinds in our cups became fewer by the sip. 

The pie timer snapped me back to the present, but those flashbacks lingered. I had forgotten them. Maybe forgotten isn’t the correct term. I needed to remember not to forget. 

We are studying the life of Joshua in fifth grade Bible. Moses died and Joshua is preparing to rally and lead the people across the Jordan River into the land promised to them. In the first chapter, the Lord reminds Joshua twice to be strong and courageous before we even get to verse nine. 

Joshua 1:9, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous.” (NIV)

My heart overflowed as rich conversation popped throughout the classroom. The consensus was that we all need reminders sometimes. The Lord gave Joshua some built-in reminders before getting to that often quoted interrogative and imperative of verse nine. He reminded Joshua to remember. Remember what He had done before. Remember that He was with him every step of the way. 

Joshua led the Israelites across the Jordan, but there was an instruction. Remember. Twelve men from each of the twelve tribes of Israel took twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan where the priests were standing carrying the Ark of the Covenant. They placed them as a sign of remembrance for generations to come of the Lord’s provision. 

Those flashbacks taught me something. Remembering can be painful. It conjures up stirrings of what was and what we wish could be. Sometimes it is easier to just leave the memories locked in the past. 

But remembering gives glimpses of His faithfulness. Remembering reveals the stones placed at the mile markers of our lives reminding us to be strong and courageous. Remembering lends to moments of sitting by the well waiting on His timing and trustworthiness. Remembering is a pathway. 

What do we need to remember not to forget?