Today my husband and I visited our favorite antique shop with real antique finds from Maine. Each time we go, we find something different. Today I stood in front of a table strewn with old photos. There were family pictures, wedding pictures, school pictures, and pictures of children at play. These were pictures of someone’s past, but I don’t know whose. I have no idea who these people were or where they lived. These were someone else’s memories being sold for a quarter a piece. This made me sad.
I wondered what their stories were and if their grandchildren knew their photos were scattered on a table in Texas in a pile with other unknown histories. The few pictures bearing a date or a name or a reference gave little history. There were still too many questions.
I thought about what might be different had there been a scrapbook or a journal sharing details of their lives. I wondered what others might someday remember about me. I don’t want my memories thrown in a pile of those long forgotten.
I thought about my own journal. I don’t write details of my day in a diary or record my prayers. But I do journal about what I read in scripture each day and God’s answers to my prayers. And now I am convicted to share more. The best thing I can leave behind for others to know about me are the details of what God has done in my life.
The memories I write in my journal are not written for someone else. They are a reminder for me of what God has done and continues to do in my life. My journal shares insights He gives and ways He speaks to me through His words. I am encouraged when I pick up a journal from several years ago and remember the situation and how God spoke to me.
But someday many years after I am gone, I hope that my journal might be picked up instead of my picture and someone else might get to know God by reading about me. I want my life and my experiences to point others to His word and a relationship with Him.
What do you do with your memories? Are you sharing them with others?