Double Take

Memories are funny things to take out of the shoe box and turn over in your hands. I can distinctly remember my past. But as I've grown I've learned more and my memories have changed in light of new lessons.

I have a memory of getting my driver's liscense. All the specifics of the driving and written test are there, even the worry of messing up and the adolescent complexes swirling about my head. But now I've learned more about driving through some study and much experience. I've taken a couple of psych courses and know what causes stress and how my body was handling it. I understand a great deal more of the experience now than I did then. I can relate to kids getting their liscense, but I can't remember it the way they will remember it the day after — or as I remembered it when I was fifteen or nineteen.

Our memories are constantly rewritten in the context of the present.

I like turning the memory of the day I believed into Christ over in my mind. I don't recall how I felt about my relationship with Him when I was born again; I had such feeble knowlege, just enough to trust Him. Since then I've learned more about theology, the church, and how He works in my life. I could explain more succinctly the dynamics of positional sanctification now than I could when I first believed. I can't remember how I felt or thought ten or five years ago, but I know that the God who saved me then is saving me now. And I understand in my heart and mind more deeply now than ever before. The things He has taught and orchestrated in my life intensify the memory of my first days as His own.