You may have noticed, yesterday was a tough day. I decided to let you in on that, and I’m grateful for the people who reached out to me to let me know how much that meant to them.
I struggled with that decision in the moment, but I’m glad I did it.
I told you that I knew it would get better. And it did. There was a text from a friend, an email from a client, and then there was pre-scheduled appointment with my therapist who is helping me wade through coping in healthy ways after so many years of taking the easy way out.
Originally, I wan’t going to write anything today. I was just going to take the day and be. I spent my time with God this morning practicing that. I read my Bible, but I didn’t write anything down. I just wanted to be. So that’s what I did.
This afternoon, though, at the conclusion of my therapy appointment, I asked God if there was anything he wanted to tell me about this last week. As I stared out of the window seat at the public library where I’ve been working on my new book, he gave me one simple word.
“Remember.”
My eyes got a little watery as I thought about that. See, I’m a big proponent of laments. I talk about the practice of lamenting in my first book. Laments are cries to God about things that are not right, about our struggles, about injustice and misfortune. God wants our laments. He’s big enough to handle them, for one, but he also knows that in lamenting we are drawn closer to him.
My journal entry yesterday — and my post to a certain extent — was a lament. I was crying out to God. And I’ve been siting in that lament for the last 24 hours. But God didn’t give me a profound response. No overwhelming comfort. No deep learning. So I just held it.
Until today. Until I got the one word: “remember.” And it’s significant.
Why is it so significant?
Because if you look at so many of the laments in the Bible, especially the Psalms, while they are filled with anger, and questions, and frustrations, so many times they end with remembering. The author cries out using some of the most depressing language you can imagine, and yet he calls himself to remember who God is, what he has done, and what he has promised.
And that’s what God was calling me to do. “Remember.”
I think a vivid example of that is Psalm 77. In it, the author says things like:
“When I remember God, I moan; when I meditate, my spirit faints.”
“I am so troubled that I cannot speak.”
“Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? Has his steadfast love forever ceased? Are his promises at an end for all time? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up his compassion?”
That was me yesterday and this week, with even some more colorful language. And yet, following those cries of deep pain, the author turns to remembering:
I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
I will ponder all your work,
and meditate on your mighty deeds.
Your way, O God, is holy.
What god is great like our God?
You are the God who works wonders;
you have made known your might among the peoples.
You with your arm redeemed your people,
the children of Jacob and Joseph.
Notice that it’s a command, though. The author isn’t saying he is remembering. I think that’s significant. He’s saying he knows he needs to do that. It’s his plan for coming out of the despair. It’s his “do the next right thing.”
Friend, that’s what God was telling me to do today, to “remember” who he is, what he’s promised, and even what he’s called me to do. I don’t know if you’re going through a hard time, but I want to encourage you:
Let your frustrations out. Be real and raw. Be graphic. Heck, I don’t even care if you’re vulgar. If that’s what comes out, let it out. God can handle it.
At some point, remember. Remember who God is. Remember what he’s done. Remember what he’s promised to do. Remember who you are in him, both your general and specific identity. Remember.
That’s what I’m doing today, and it’s giving me a renewed sense of hope and heart. Not a pageant-like smile and wave, faking that everything is OK, but rather a realistic peace.
I think it could do the same for you.
(Pic: My view out the window at the library as I write and remember.)
Remember is powerful, even when you can't recall. Last night, I couldn't sleep because of the dark things now in the world and with people I love. I woke up, not able to remember the words of the Lord's prayer, I was that squeezed by evil. I got up, tried to find it in my Bible, couldn't find the pages, but then Colossians 1 electrified on the page- "For He rescued us from the domain of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son.." I remembered I was no longer held by the domain of darkness, but by Jesus. It was a struggle to keep remembering that all night, but it is true.
Love this share, Jon, and the call to remember. Beautiful reflection. Thank you and I’m grateful you keep pressing in even when things are tough.