The Way We Remember: a lesson in tangible living

#14

“A disciple should always carry the memory of God within. For it is written:

‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart.’

You should not only love the Lord when entering into the place of prayer but should also remember Him with deep desire when you walk or speak to others or take your meals…

If a disciple’s heart always longs for God, then God will surely be the Lord of their heart.” — Makarios the Great

I’m #meditatingwithmystics for 100 days, and two weeks in, today’s reflection asks that we remember God.

What is our memory of God?

If you’re at all human, you’ve been wired with this incredible capacity to store experiences in the deepest part of your brain, with this live wire that also reaches down into your heart.

Pinion wood incense takes me straight back to New Mexico, where I lived for a few years as a child.

Gerbera daisies bring me seven years back to my wedding day, yellow and red accents against my cream-colored dress.

And when I hear Ben Howard’s first album, I’m in a kind of Narnia, adventure and humanity and the scent of bonfires against autumn skies.

I recently signed up for an App called Timeshel, that sends a number of photos from your own Instagram account or personal albums at the end of every month.

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This is your story.

Today, ten photos came to my door. I held memories in my hand:

mud sliding at the Chattahoochee River;

watching the leafy sea dragons at the aquarium;

the day we skipped Eliot’s nap to buy his violin, and the moment he fell asleep, still cradling it tight;

my last date with Travis before he left to teach for ten days at Duke.

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I wanted tangible reminders of our memories, ones I can hang on the wall with washi tape or fix into a big album.

I want the boys to look there instead of my phone for the those moments.

I want them to hold each one and savor the memory of that moment, to live it again and again.

I want more flesh and blood.

So it is with our memories of each other, of God in humanity.

We carry memories of God when we wash the dishes, when we see that we’re coming clean every second, too.

We remember God in the latte art in our cup, the way creativity seeps into all things.

And we remember God when our boys’ eyes shine at the sight of a basketball bounce, at the sound of a violin swaying through an orchestra.

We remember God in the paper writing, in the work, in the grueling along with the dreaming.

We remember God in the breaking of bread, in the pink lemonade, in the wait for everything.

We remember Him because He has laced Himself throughout our human experience, and He is more tangible than we think.

Like my Timeshel photos, He holds life, too, ways for me to understand that He is present in all my comings and goings.

May we remember, deeply desiring a piece of Kingdom come, right here and now.

Amen.

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