My daughters were just preschoolers when I realized they would never remember the early days of their life and what is sad about the things they remembered, according to research, would be the negative experiences that brought trauma into their young lives. Fortunately, our family has been blessed but those experiences do exist and if not put in proper perspective may overshadow the more positive experiences.
Moments that inflated my heart to near-rupture would be tucked away in their past, a building block perhaps, but buried by countless others and impossible for them to recall. Snuggling on the couch watching The Little Mermaid or Barney while nursing a cough, ache or pain, late-night play-time, living room dress up sessions, back yard romps on the four-wheeler, their first fishing and hunting trip, camping in a tent–the very things that filled my days with joy would fade from their recollection as life inevitably moved forward.
An ache materialized that day, but it was nearly a year before I had an answer. It took me–one who loves to write–the better part of 365 days to figure out how to capture what little I could so my girls could reflect on those moments later.
The week Ashley started Kindergarten at Fraser United Methodist Church in Montgomery, Alabama; I decided to keep a memory book for my daughters that they would inherit upon my death. I also decided that this diary would tell the story through my lens, including the good, bad, and ugly and my personal thoughts of those experiences.
I do my best to convey how the experience felt, what an incident taught, and the blessings received. I wrote to Ashley reminding her of her love for Bugsy, the rabbit that Papa gave, how she loved being read to by Nanny and how she inspired her two younger cousins, Christopher and Stephen dress up in women’s clothing and put on plays for the family.
I wrote to Sarah how scared I was when we had to lock-down the Mall because she went missing (she slipped away from us to go find the Easter Bunny), how painful it was when she got her tooth knocked out while at a skating party and how she led her mom to pray when she saw her crying and grieving over the death of Beth (Donna’s sister) to breast cancer.
I wrote to Stephanie about her twin that we lost in-utero and how I believe that God packed the happiness of her twin into her because of her constant state of happiness, how she got in trouble for sliding in the bathroom in Elementary School and how her mouth never stopped talking (well, that has never stopped).
I wrote to all how much I love their mother. It’s important for a child to see and know their parents love one another and witness how a couple works together for the good of the whole. I told them about the good and bad times and emphasized how relationships take commitment, sacrifice, grace, time and a willingness to mature individually and as a couple with a challenge to never give up on one whom you love.
As in my penning’s about their mom, in each experience and with each girl, I try to capture something beautiful that shows each just how loved she was on that day. I tell them now but I know it will mean much more when they find it in print and can longer hear my voice.
It wasn’t long ago that I realized just how similar the Bible is to this memory book of mine. Without the Bible I would never understand God’s love as revealed in creation, or His love as revealed in redemption. I’d never know all His works in Israel or Egypt. Without the Bible I’d never know of the mighty men and women of faith who lived in generations past. Without the words recorded in scripture I’d be left to piece things together on my own.
Without the Word of God, I’d be lost.
Because our Heavenly Father knew just how frail and forgetful His children would be, He saw fit to leave us a memory book. He gave us the highlights. He gave us a record of His love and His character extending back to days we have no way of remembering.
As a parent, I have some idea of how important that record is to Him. There are lessons to be learned, lives to be studied, and chapter upon chapter of God’s love written down for us by a hand that needed us to know. As we read His memory book to us we find how committed He is to each of His children, how much He has sacrificed, how wide His grace extends and that He will never give up on us.
As tempting as it is to assume the Bible was written for somebody else, I pray that the words of this hastily written blog would have you consider this simple truth:
God’s Word is a record of His love… And it was written for you.
