Remind Us Where We’ve Been

We arrived early for our boat trip to search for white-tailed eagles. Rain fell steadily (it always did on that trip), so we popped into a small gift shop uphill from the docks. I bought a wispy green fairy tree hanging ornament, noting that fairies are part of the culture on the Isle of Skye. She seemed an appropriate memento of our week there.

I’m not much for collecting tchotchkes on our trips, preferring a practical shopping bag and ornaments like the fairy as my takeaways. Every December, we dig all the boxes out of the basement and uncover anew treasures that remind us of places we’ve visited and experiences we’ve enjoyed.

The puffin kayak speaks of our Nova Scotia adventures. The Eiffel Tower, Chinese cloisonné ball, and German castle reflect places we never thought we’d visit. The glass orca from Seattle and painted Victorian home from San Francisco recall memories of watching the Pacific Ocean and dancing on Fisherman’s Wharf. I love our tree of travel memories and the stories it reminds us to tell as we hang our beads and baubles.

They are reminders of where we’ve been.

Remember is one of the most repeated words in the Bible. That doesn’t surprise me, since I know how easy it is to forget. I forget an idea for a blog I had thirty seconds ago. I forget why I walked into the kitchen. Even experiences that have significant meaning, such as events for which I was profoundly grateful at the time, fade. Time works its devilry, and we lose touch with what reminds us of God’s greatness and goodness.

We don’t have any trees on which to hang my hospital bracelets, the recipes written in my mom’s handwriting, or my daughter’s hard-won high school diploma. Events and experiences diminish in memory, and we forget that they were strong evidence of the grace and glory of God.

We forget, and we also begin to lose trust. We begin to believe in ourselves a bit too much, in his watchfulness far too little.

Followers of God have known this for a very long time.

Samuel, wanting to remember God’s rescue from enemies, created a memorial. He took “a large stone and placed it between the towns of Mizpah and Jeshanah. He named it Ebenezer (which means “the stone of help”), for he said, ‘Up to this point the Lord has helped us!’” (1 Samuel 7:12 NLT).

Jacob, consistently forgetting that God had both eyes on him, named a place to always remind him that God would watch and wrestle until Jacob would walk with him. Genesis 32:30 tells us, “Jacob named the place Peniel (which means ‘face of God’), for he said, ‘I have seen God face to face, yet my life has been spared’” (NLT).

God offered the rainbow as a reminder of his mercy. He commanded the Israelites to remember their slavery and divine rescue with the unleavened bread and the Sabbath.

Of course, the ultimate memorial is Jesus’s turning plain bread and wine into a holy testament to his sacrifice and asking his followers to never forget. Luke 22:19 says, “He took some bread and gave thanks to God for it. Then he broke it in pieces and gave it to the disciples, saying, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me’” (NLT).

Did the woman who wiped Jesus’s feet with her tears keep the jar that had held her spent perfume and look at it from time to time, remembering? (Luke 7:36–50)

Did Peter hold on to a piece of the net that had torn apart with a miraculous abundance of fish, so he would never forget Jesus’s lavish grace? (Luke 5:1–11)

Did Zacchaeus press a leaf from that tree he climbed, or did Martha store the cup Jesus used at her house on a separate shelf?

We don’t know, of course.

We do know that we all need reminders of where we’ve been. Stones, verses, tattered bookmarks, hospital bracelets, or yellowed Ellis Island papers—tangible tokens that pull up the stories of our past and remind us, again and again, that God is good, God is great, and God is gracious.

In Scripture, the word for “memory” doesn’t mean to simply think about some past event. It isn’t a fond reflection or a nostalgic smile. Remember carries potent action. It instructs us to remember in a way that the event is brought into our present, standing before us here and now, causing us to act, not just reflect.

My hospital bracelets should cause me to give thanks to God but also to show gratitude for my health by taking care of myself. Maybe they will compel me to visit someone recovering from surgery or mourning the loss of a loved one.

My great-grandparents’ immigration papers should remind me how fortunate I am for my family. They should also induce me to send a card to a sibling I haven’t spoken to in a while or encourage and help a new immigrant.

Memory in Scripture always acts. It does more than make us think about times past. It brings those times into our now.

This month, I’ll put that green fairy on my tree, and I’ll conjure pictures in my mind of the Fairy Pools and Fairy Glen on the Isle of Skye. I’ll remember how my husband encouraged me to hike the tough spots. Three months removed, maybe I’ll even remember all the wind and rain with fondness.

We’ll tell the stories, and we’ll relive the places we’ve been.

God calls us all to remember where we’ve been. To remember who brought us through the hard days and who gifted us with the good ones. Then he calls us to act. Our gratitude for where we’ve been leads us to where we’re going.

Jill Richardson is a writer, speaker, pastor, mom of three, and author of five books. She likes to travel, grow flowers, read Tolkien, and research her next project. She believes in Jesus, grace, restoration, kindness, justice, and dark chocolate. Her passion is partnering with the next generation of faith. Jill blogs at jillmrichardson.com.

Photograph © Garreth Broesche, used with permission