We collect memories every day, not always realizing it. Memories aren’t just vacations, traditions, or major life events; rather, they are also tarnished photographs in the bottom drawer, or a too-small pair of comfy jeans, or the smell of a hospital mixed with Mom’s perfume.
Memories. They are a blessing and a curse, a priceless necklace that is beautiful but sometimes ill-fitting and most certainly nonreturnable. It was just given to us.
The first time I walked into my dorm room, #402. Standing beneath the Eiffel Tower and running down the Seine bank with a crepe in my hand. Trying ketchup for the first time, finding a spider in my bed when I was nine, having a kid in youth group confess a pornography addiction to me, being betrayed by a close friend when I was 17.
I find it interesting that Jesus was human.
Jesus had to redeem all aspects of our humanity, for he was and is our Great High Priest who sympathizes with us. For the Word became flesh and walked among us (John 1:14). Therefore, Jesus had memories, too.
He had to experience human life. He had to collect memories and process and think and go through the mundane (30 years of day-to-day carpentry, hello) and the highly significant (his ministry of three years). He knows what it’s like to have a celebration party, or to walk into a funeral that we never wished would happen, or to have your closest friends leave and your family reject you. Hebrews 4:15.
Memories of bad times can assault us when we’re not looking. I had a pretty rough experience with this last summer when a flood of regrets rushed into my head from my first fall semester in college. I’ve also had wonderful times of reminiscence with family and friends, and tonight was no exception.
We sat in our living room for an hour telling funny stories that spun off of Christmas memories. I take this time for granted too often. Time is the vehicle for our memories, and for a short 75-ish years God allows us to be her passenger.
I’ve tasted and seen, and I want to keep collecting these memories because my eyes have been opened and my life redeemed. by Jesus. Time will drive on, but I will cling to One who remains unaffected by Time’s shortsightedness and limited scope and refusal to pick up hitchhikers. Jesus, keep my memories in your jar and continue to hold my life as my Ultimate Destination.
