The Trap of Walking Too Far Down Memory Lane
Memories are a mystery. Over time, they either fade out of existence or stay as constant reminders; They either gift us hope or drown us in despair, And they either remain sharp or warp in unusual ways. Above all else, our brains—without our consent—choose which memories are stored or tossed. Even so, each of us feeds into our memories. If you want a bad memory to leave, then you need to let it go.
There is a choice you must make: Linger on your past mistakes or live for your God-given calling. Instead of thinking of things that could’ve been, spend your waking hours loving, honoring, and worshiping the Lord! Don’t lose yourself wallowing in the waves of the past; Choose to abide in God’s love in the present.
In Keep On Keeping On, Mark Rutland shares a story of a man who needed to sort through the treasures and trash in his mind: “One man in his eighties told me a story, a hard story, and one I’ve never forgotten. It was a story about history, relationships, and pain. The old man went only by the initials of his first and middle name, GC. It stood for Grover Cleveland, who was president the year he was born, 1886. GC had been born near Pittsburgh and seemed destined to spend his life in the steel mills. The idea of that was horrible to him. He wanted out, he told me. Out of Pennsylvania and out of the blazing, loud, immensely dangerous mills.
He saw a newspaper advert for jobs on the Central of Georgia Railroad. It was 1904, and GC was eighteen. It seems the Central of Georgia had just absorbed the Chattahoochee and Gulf Railroad, and they needed hands. In 1904, Georgia, suffering from a lack of manpower, was still rebuilding from the Civil War, which had ended only thirty-nine years earlier. To GC, it looked like the opportunity of a lifetime. To GC’s father, it looked like disloyalty of a particularly despicable and treacherous stripe.
GC’s father, who was fifty-nine years old in 1904, had been wounded and captured at Chickamauga in 1863. He was sent to the infamous Andersonville prison in South Georgia where he spent two years in a living hell. It was also at Andersonville that he lost a leg. He told GC that if he went to work in Georgia, he would never speak to him or let him in the house or see his face ever again.
To young GC, 1865 seemed light years away. Andersonville was a dark and distant thing to be whispered about and shuddered at, but to GC it was gone. Long gone. Not to his father.
‘That is so sad.’
‘I reckon. But I chose, and he chose, and them two choices just didn’t match. Anyway, I became a really good railroadman. Real good. And a Georgia man all the way. Wars end. That's how it is, and that’s what my father just couldn’t get a hold of. Wars end.’
What I had a hard time ‘getting a hold of’ was that I was talking to a man whose father had fought in, been wounded, captured, and lost a leg in the Civil War. Some years later, I took my son to tour the Andersonville prison camp just east of I-75 and only twenty-two miles from Plains, where Jimmy Carter was born.
It was not just his leg that GC’s father lost at Andersonville. He lost that part of his soul where forgiveness can replace hate, wars finally end, memories can get healed, and love can grow back even if severed legs cannot.
The answer lies where this chapter began, in Exodus 17:14. Some memories are treasures, to be guarded and cherished. Some, like the Amalekites, must be left where they fell. From them, we simply move on. We must, especially as we age, learn which is which. All too often we talk too much about the wrong memories. Moses was admonished to let God ‘put out the remembrance of Amalek.’
From where I stand now, I can see it better. I wish every wounded preacher who ever got beat up by some wicked church and every hurt layman disappointed and disillusioned by some idiot preacher could see what I see from here. Oh, that every family could let go of their Amalekite memories and hold to the true treasure! Folks go through terrible things. Not all are as bad as the Andersonville POW camp but bad enough to leave them wounded and even maimed. If only they could see it. If only GC’s father could have seen it. What we hope for is some dramatic moment of closure where healing comes and justice prevails. Such dramatic moments seldom if ever come. Sometimes, you just have to let it go. Wars end. Eventually. If we will let them.”
For more information on Mark Rutland’s new book, Keep On Keeping On, visit MyCharismaShop.com