My sweetest memories are ones that inspire hope. And many of them are of life before my accident. I recall the grating sensation of a nail file against the tips of my fingers, and the sound of my nails tapping cool, ivory piano keys. I can still “feel” my fingers plucking the tight nylon strings of my old guitar, touching peach fuzz, digging under an orange skin and peeling it.
Funny thing…so many of my freshest memories have to do with my hands. I’m looking at my paralyzed hands right now. The muscles have all atrophied. My fingers are curled and rigid, and I wear leather hand-splints so that when I move my arms, my hands don’t flop and get in the way. I love it when my husband, Ken, holds my hand. Sometimes when we’re wheeling around a mall, I’ll hold my arm out, a signal to him to grab my hand. I can’t feel it, but I like seeing his hand covering mine.
Why would memories like these inspire hope? They remind me that one day soon I’ll have new hands. Fingers that will work and feel again, touch and pluck and pick and scrub and dig. Hands that will embrace loved ones. The first thing I’m going to do is reach for Ken’s new, glorified hand and give it a squeeze, just to see what it feels like. It’ll happen! God promises me in Jeremiah 29:11, “I know the plans I have for you…They are plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope” (LB). My best memories help give shape to that hopeful future.
Let your memories be your handhold on heaven. Do you have memories of better times, happier days? Use those to help you look forward to the day when God will wipe away every tear, when sorrow and sighing will be no more, and when joy will overtake you.
Lord, help me to use memories to build up my hope for the heavenly future. Thank you for helping me through the present by reminding me of a pleasant past. |
|