Reminisce

You may or may not know that this writing thing has been a part of me for years…or at least a desire! I wrote for our junior high newspaper. I was a photographer for the high school newspaper, which brought with it the opportunity to go to Indianapolis with the band to take pictures and write a story. I had a newswriting class in college in which we had to write stories in hopes of being published in the campus paper. My mom bought me “Writer’s Market” books before there was internet. A long-time dream would be to have a book published; however, as I have mentioned in previous articles, I have surrendered that with acceptance that it may not happen, but also, realizing that “for with God nothing shall be impossible.” [Luke 1:37] The surrender is that I want to write and do my best to be obedient and trust that whomever God wants to read “my stuff” will. Having said all that…I do have a book on my heart. Whether it comes to fruition or not, I was working on it today and want to share a hint of some of the content.

I recently have realized the power in reminiscing. I was reading in a Bible study book in which the author’s presentation basically reminded me how that God instructed the children of Israel to have festivals, or celebrations, and pass down the memories of their deliverance. This passing down equates to passing on the faithfulness of God. We now can hold these memories in our hands as we read of His wonderful works. [1]

Today, I was listening to a random playlist of songs on my phone. An older southern gospel song came on called, “Please, Forgive Me.” The song almost has a sad, negative connotation as to the state of the life of the one singing, but emphasizes the request for forgiveness. The message is clear (and good)…that we need His grace to make it through and all we have is Him. I like the song, but I don’t always want to listen to a song that feels kind of sad regardless of the message! Well, today, I embraced the memory it brought back.

We were fairly new at the church we were attending. If memory serves me correctly, a friend of ours had come to sing, and sang this song that Steve always liked. He may have even requested it that night. But, he hit the altar sobbing. He had been saved several years before, after we were married; but I could tell he needed this. Once in Sunday School class, our teacher was talking about how we sometimes have great church services but walk away and quickly forget. I felt strongly compelled to mention that, on the other hand, I have been in services where The Holy Spirit moved so powerfully that I have reminisced over those services so I would hope to never forget! One in particular was when my dad got saved.

[I’m getting excited here!] I had prayed for my dad from the time that I was a kid to be saved.  I loved that man, and I wanted him to make it to Heaven!  My mom took me to church, but my dad rarely went.  My aunt, Linda, told my dad once before he was saved that he was already so good that if he got saved, he would practically be perfect.  

Eventually, I prayed that I knew he would get saved, but I would like to be there…and, OH!, let me tell you that I was! Hallelujah!

I was an adult by then with my two kids. Our church had been having revival. Mom hadn’t been going to church for a while. She came and went to the altar. I believe that was a Sunday. I was at their house afterward, and she told my dad something along the lines that she had needed to get some things right. I could tell that he immediately got nervous and said something like, “Oh, you were alright.”

Before the revival was up, he was at church, too. I was in the nursery with Mackenzie. She was a baby at the time. Steve was working out of town. I could see out the window in the nursery door. I think that a friend told me that Mom was talking to him. I later found out that she was telling him that she was going back to the altar, and maybe asked him if he wanted to go. Regardless—he went! I headed out of that nursery door with Mackenzie. A friend was coming back to get me. I handed her the baby and went straight to the altar to be with them, and pray with him. My dad was bawling like a baby. Jim asked him if he had gotten saved and he said he didn’t know. They prayed again, and let me tell you…my dad DID get saved that night! And—he continued walking with Jesus for the rest of his life.

I began writing this today because of feeling and recognizing the power in remembering…and the strong pull to write about it. Friends, this memory thing is a gift from God. Recalling Steve at that altar and thanking God for his growth over the years; and then writing about my dad getting saved has brought emotions and tears of joy that I was not expecting today. I don’t think I have ever told anyone the one about Steve, but I reminded him about it today. On the other hand, I have told about my dad getting saved over and over again, but today, the reality of that answered prayer hit me like a tidal wave!

Those memories at those altars are worth remembering–celebrating!!…and I am so happy to share them—and God’s faithfulness with you!

Thank you for celebrating with me!

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[1] Jesus & Women by Kristi McLelland. Lifeway Press 2022.