To remember something simply means to revisit a past event and ponder on it, much like meditation. The memory is a beautiful and intricate part of the human being. The memory is not our enemy; it was actually created by God for a specific purpose. Our memory was created to house the kindness, goodness and grandeur of our great God, but after the fall of man the memory became somewhat corrupted, and, as a result, we don’t have to try very hard to remember the bad things that have happened to us.
The memory is a canvas where life pictures are displayed; it is supposed to be a canvas of rich colors that radiate life, fullness, peace, wholeness, joy, hope and creativity. Unfortunately, the canvas has been smeared by the enemy with pictures of darkness, ugliness and constant loads of heaviness. “How am I supposed to forget these images engraved in my memory, when what happened to me was real and it caused me real pain?” The truth is, God does not expect you to forget your past; in fact, he asked us to remember our past but not in the way we do presently. God instituted specific days for certain feasts to be celebrated by the Jewish people, in order for them to never forget the goodness of him in their lives.
After the children of Israel left Egypt, God instructed them to observe the Sabbath. This was not just for ritual sake; this would bring to their memory the fact that the God of the universe saved their lives from major destruction by bringing them out of slavery, where they had to work continuously, into freedom – that now they did not have to be subjected to the harsh hand of the slave master and for us Christians we remember Calvary’s cross for the purpose of grasping the depth of revelation embedded in the divine exchange that took place two thousand years ago. Where we are today is a result of the situations and circumstances of the past. Where we are going tomorrow will be determined by what we chose to take from the past.
Power Thought: I declare that my memory is a canvas of bright and radiant colors and so I refuse to let the enemy paint on the canvas of my memory.