Writing To Remember.

People are prone to forget. When we forget, we're more inclined to fall prey to thoughts and feelings that are not true. So we write to remember.

My youngest son is on the cusp of becoming a teenager. While his actual age may not reflect it yet, his body would say he is already there. He’s huge and hairy, and has a voice deeper than mine. It feels like one night he went to bed a boy and woke up the next morning a man. As our kids continue to transition more and more to their young adult years, I can’t help but feel some grief. Time is moving forward, life is changing, and a season that felt unrelenting is coming to an end.

It feels like yesterday that we were drowning in the constant feeding, nap times, diaper changes, and bedtimes of infants and toddlers. Those were long, hard days, and in the midst of it, you feel like they’ll never end. As you’re trying to put a fussy toddler down for the four thousandth time, you think, “I’m gonna die in here. This will never end.” And then one day you wake up, and they’re all taller than you, they have their own complex emotional lives, they have their own social circles, and all their own challenges they’re trying to navigate. At some point along the way, you start to miss those long days and tedious tasks that once felt like they’d never end.

One of the tasks I miss most from when our kids were little is bath time. Don’t get me wrong, most days I’m thankful that they are finally capable of fully getting themselves ready, but those evenings spent watching them play in the bath, I now realize, were sacred. However, they could also be a little gross.

One of my kids, whose identity I will protect out of respect, had a particular bathtub habit that was disgusting. One of their favorite bathtub toys was a set of small, colorful cups that stacked. These cups also had holes in the bottom in various shapes and sizes. The child who shall remain nameless used to fill these cups and try to drink the soapy, dirty tub water before it all leaked out of the bottom. Thankfully, most of the water had leaked out by the time they were able to raise the cup to their lips…but it was disgusting nonetheless.

As I think back on this gross game, one of the things that stands out the most is the confused look on their face each time they found the cups largely empty. I could see their little brain churning: “I know I just dipped this cup in the water. I checked it, and it was filled to the brim. But then when I raise it to my mouth, it’s almost entirely empty.” They just couldn’t quite figure it out.

As I reflect on this memory, I can’t help but think of what a fitting image this is of our memories in general. Just like the water that drained from those cups, our memories have a way of slipping away from us. What I mean is, we’re all prone to forget. It’s as if our brains have some small hole from which our memories drain within moments of experiencing them. This means that remembering requires intention.

According to the Scriptures, intentional remembering is itself a spiritual practice. The Bible invites us to remember hundreds of times. In Deuteronomy 8:2, Israel is called to remember how God led them for forty years in the wilderness. Psalm 103:2 urges us, “My soul, bless the Lord, and do not forget all his benefits.” The sacrament of communion is about remembering the sacrifice of Christ (1 Corinthians 11:24-25). In 2 Timothy 2:8, Paul writes, “Keep in mind Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, descended from David, according to my gospel.” Clearly, remembering matters to God.

I would argue that remembering matters to God because it’s essential for our own well-being. As Helen Cepero writes,

“Memory is the way we piece together the past in a way that gives meaning to our present experience. It is also the primary way we hold on to our Christian faith in a sometimes threatening and often forgetful present.”

So much of our day-to-day experience evokes feelings that tell us we are alone, God has forgotten us, or is somehow unaware of what we’re enduring. The problem is, those feelings reflect thoughts that aren’t true. What’s true is that God is always present and always at work. He’s always been and always will be faithful to us. One of the most powerful ways that we experience God in our present is by reflecting on His faithfulness in our past.

This is again a primary reason why I keep a journal: I write to remember. I want to remember what God says to me each day. I want to remember the feelings I’ve carried and how God has met me in the midst of them. I want to remember seasons of doubt and how God wrestled with me through them. I want to remember my days of prosperity and my days of adversity and how God was the Author of them both (Ecclesiastes 7:14). The reality is, apart from an intentional practice like journaling, I inevitably forget. And when I forget, I’m more inclined to fall prey to thoughts and feelings that are not true. So I write to remember.

EXPERIENTIAL

One simple prayer practice that helps me remember is the Examen. If you aren’t familiar, the Prayer of Examen is a spiritual practice that originated with St. Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuit order. It's a method of prayerful reflection on one's day, aimed at discerning God's presence and guidance in daily life. There are many ways in which it’s practiced, but I have found the five simple steps in Jim Manney’s “A Simple Life-Changing Prayer,” to be most helpful:

Step One: Pray for light.

We start by preparing our hearts and minds to be attentive to the leading of the Spirit. He is our Helper and knows what requires our attention. So we begin with an attitude of humble surrender, asking the Spirit to shine His light on what He wants us to see.

Step Two: Give thanks.

Each day is filled with small gifts from God: the warm sun, a cool breeze on your face, a beautiful sunrise or sunset, the sound of a loved one’s laughter, a delicious meal or drink, a hot shower, a good workout, the presence of a friend, a good book, a comfortable chair, a warm bed, a great movie, and endless other examples. As we reflect, we write down the ones the Spirit brings to mind and thank Him for each one.

Step Three: Review the day.

Next, we review the events of the day with an open heart. Here, we examine moments where we felt close to God as well as areas where we may have encountered challenges or struggles. Ignatius called these two experiences “consolation” and “desolation,” and each day is marked by both. Most important to notice, is how God is present in both.

Step Four: Face what’s wrong.

Now that our hearts and minds are filled with all the ways that God has been good to us and present with us, we can safely and securely confess the places in which we fell short of the flourishing lives for which He created us. We acknowledge any shortcomings or sins we may have encountered during the day. By seeking God's forgiveness and grace for growth, we can experience spiritual healing and renewal.

Step Five: Do something - but not just anything.

Finally, we look to the day ahead and ask God to help us move forward with intentionality and purpose. We reflect on where we sense Him inviting us for the day ahead. By aligning our actions with God's will and seeking to live a life reflective of His love and grace, we continue to experience transformation and spiritual growth.

If I were to recommend one way to journal each day, this would be it. I’ve not found another method that better helps me engage with God in the ups and downs of daily life. So give it a shot. And as always, eat the fish and spit out the bones. If something feels cumbersome or confusing, ask the Spirit to help you design your own way to write in order to remember.

I’m praying that each time you put pen to paper, or fingers to keys, the Spirit guides you into a deeper awareness of His presence and power at work in your life.

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