Memory

 May 6, 2021

Memory is a tricky bugger. Someone recently wanted people to date themselves by naming stores that no longer exist. I could picture two in my mind, location and layout, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember their names. About six hours later, the names popped into my head without my bidding: Robert Hall and Noah’s Ark. Why I couldn’t think of them when I wanted to is beyond me.

I admire singers and actors who can remember lines and lyrics to a myriad of songs and plays. It’s a stretch for me to remember a measly three point outline for my sermons. Some years ago at our village History Day celebration, I was asked to give a short devotional and lead in the Lord’s Prayer—not exactly Mensa requirement. Here I am, standing on the porch of the village history museum in front of a hundred or so villagers and visitors, and midway through the Lord’s Prayer, I forget what line comes next. I’m standing there like a silent numbskull, wracking my brain in vain till the organizer of the event leans in close with the right words. Can you imagine the preacher forgetting the Lord’s Prayer? That’s me and my fickle memory.

John Newton, author of Amazing Grace, told of how as a young boy he learned lessons in godliness from his mother, but over and over, he said, “I forgot.” His memory lapses led him to the slave trade, and even managing to become a slave himself before he finally remembered and was converted. I can attest to the fact that it’s when I forget the presence of the Lord through his Holy Spirit that I get myself into trouble, which is why it is so important for me to begin each day remembering—reading Scripture and praying. If I forget this in the morning, I’m apt to forget who I am and who I represent through the day. 

I am grateful tonight for our men’s prayer hour this morning at 6:00 am. With the help of the alarm and Linda’s nudge, I remembered to get up early, and the memory of our time together stayed with me through the day.