>> January 25, 2010
As I traipsed along, memories stirred in me of my call to ministry. Not so much the actual “call” but the people that helped mentor me when they recognized a hunger for God in my life. It was a nice stroll for me.
A couple years ago I took a different trip down Memory Lane. More of a tromp than a traipse. I’m forever thankful for the friend God gave me to hold my hand down that scary path.
It seems we all have a past. Good, bad or ugly…we have a past. I am reminded of something Les always says: “Your past is only good for one thing, to see where you have come from so you can praise God for what He has brought you through.”
It reminds me of the movie Lion King (Celina calls it the big kitty movie). Here is a brief conversation between Rafika and Simba:
Simba: I know what I have to do. But going back will mean facing my past. I've been running from it for so long.One of my favorite scripture passage is Isaiah 43:17-19:
[Rafiki hits Simba on the head with his stick]
Simba: Ow! What was that for?
Rafiki: It doesn't matter. It's in the past.
Simba: Yeah, but it still hurts.
Rafiki: Oh yes, the past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it.
"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.”
Sometimes it is impossible to really forget our past but we need to be careful that our past doesn’t hold us back from the new thing God has planned for us.
I have another friend that has found her way on Memory Lane. She isn’t traipsing or tromping. Hers is more like tip-toeing over debris, watching carefully not to trip.
I’m not really a poet, but once in awhile when I’m in a melancholy mood the inspiration will hit me in a poetic way. Here is a poem I wrote a couple years ago when I had tromped down Memory Lane:
Battered and beatenWind blown and worn.Soaked from the rainMy branches are torn.
Parts of me fallingLaying on the ground.Debris piled highA reason I found.
When debris rotsSeedlings move in.Amazing, I know,New growth begins.
Hard to imagineIn the midst of it all.Good things can growWhen parts of me fall.
Clear all the damage?Impossible you see.Some must remainIt just has to be.
© Mari LaVell 2008