memories

The Houses that Built Me

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A couple of years ago, my family got the opportunity to revisit some of the old houses where I lived, as well as my grandparents’ houses. It was a fun trip down memory lane, but I realized one thing.

I didn’t get the wave of nostalgia that I was expecting. Some of the houses had changed quite a bit, but some looked the same. The difference was that the people I loved weren’t there anymore. Some have moved away, some have gone to heaven.

It wasn’t the brick and mortar that I truly loved. It was the people inside. It was the memories we made within the walls of each of the houses. Today, if I were given the chance to wander through these houses, I doubt I’d recognize very much. I’m sure a lot has changed in the 30+ years since I was last there.

Sometimes, I think I want to step into the past, if only for a moment. I just want to be a fly on the wall and revisit some old memories. I just want to see the faces and hear their stories. The older I get, the more trouble I have remembering what they looked like or what their voices sounded like.

But I’m thankful. I’m grateful for everything I learned, every experience I had in these places, both good and bad. I think who I am now was shaped by the people who lived there. I carry a little bit of each and every one of them with me.

One of the rewards of heaven will be seeing all the old faces again. Maybe they’ll all be young again. They will have all their memories back. They won’t be fragile or in pain. It will be just like old times — even better, since Jesus will be there.

I hope that the people living in those homes are making new memories. Maybe one day a long time from now, someone will drive up and instantly be able to conjure up a million scenes from the past that they can think about and smile.

Opryland Memories

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This year will mark 28 years since Opryland USA theme park went away. I still think that tearing down Opryland to put up a mall was the dumbest thing Nashville has ever done. At least, it’s in the top ten.

I miss that place. I miss the rides. I miss the shows. I miss those little fruit drinks that came in the plastic containers shaped like fruit. I miss it all.

Most of all, I miss knowing that a place like that exists. I understand that Dollywood is still around and isn’t that far away, but it’s not the same. There is so much history and so many memories from 1972 to 1997.

Maybe what I miss in a way is how life was back in 1997. No social media. No constant 24 hour news channels. Less craziness in the world (or maybe it seemed less crazy because there weren’t CNN and Fox News channels constantly reminding us of how bad everything is).

These days, I’m always on the lookout for Opryland memorabilia. So far, I have a couple of t-shirts, a couple of records, and some key chains and glasses. Every time I go to Goodwill, I check for Opryland shirts.

There really is no point to this story, other than if you want to send me Opryland stuff, that would be great. Sometimes I get nostalgic and need to write it down. Also, it helps me remember more good times from back then.

Thanks, Opryland USA, for some of the best memories!

Spinning the Christmas Classics

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I think music has always been an essential part of my life for as long as I can remember. Some of my first memories involve hearing my grandmother sing or listening to the old Elvis records.

It made sense when I got a turntable for Christmas two years ago that I’d start stockpiling a collection of Christmas records, especially the classic recordings from the likes of Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, and Ella Fitzgerald.

It’s not like I wasn’t listening to Christmas music before 2022. I had (and still have) my massive collection of Christmas CDs that will one day all be compiled into a massive playlist somewhere. But dropping the needle on a record is like turning back the calendar to 1979 when I could hardly contain my excitement for Santa and presents.

Christmas music was actually my introduction to a lot of great music from the 40s and 50s. Pretty much all the standard versions of the holiday classics are from that era. To risk sounding like an old fart, to me the music from that era was from real singers and real musicians who didn’t need autotune or pitch correction or and kind of computer software to make indelible musical memories.

I don’t even mind having to get up every 20 minutes or so to flip the records over. The physical act makes the nostalgia so much more potent. And all those great songs are basically the soundtrack for all my Decembers for as far back as I can remember. Wrapping presents and decorating the tree isn’t quite the same without a little White Christmas from Bing or a Blue Christmas from Elvis.

And of course all those carols remind me of the real reason for the season, especially O Little Town of Bethlehem and Silent Night. There’s a reason why we still sing lyrics penned centuries ago. There’s a reason why people are still recording those hymns from the 1800s. The message is still as true and powerful now as it was 2,000 years ago on the first Christmas night.

So I guess I’ll keep playing the records and adding to my collection for as long as there are Christmases to celebrate. Christ the Lord is born today. Hallelujah!

Those Convicting Memes

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Is it possible that God can speak through an aptly-timed social media meme? If I had to answer that question right now, I’d lean toward yes. I seem to get memes like this one that remind me that gratitude is always appropriate even in seasons of anxiety.

There’s always something to be thankful for. I am most definitely living inside of multiple answered prayers (both from me and from others) while I am waiting on other prayers to be answered. One obvious example that practically stares at me every day is Clifford the Big Red Jeep, the car I prayed for.

So basically while I pray for God’s provision for a job, I am literally driving the answer to a previous prayer. After that, you’d think I’d be all done with questioning God’s timing or wondering if He will really provide this time, but I still do. I identify with those Israelites wandering in the desert who seem to have short-term memories when it comes to the blessings of God and long-term memories when it comes to every hardship.

Even the basic gifts like waking up every morning and having reasonably good health are answered prayers. So is having good eyesight and hearing. So is being able to walk anywhere I want. I am living in all these answered prayers that I routinely take for granted.

God, forgive my doubt and my entitlement. Thank you that you are way more patient with me than I am with you. Even as I pray for You to grant my petitions, grant me to see with Your eyes so that I can trust Your heart and Your timing and not lose heart. Amen.

Longing for Simpler Times

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I’ve been in a nostalgic mood a lot lately, thinking about people who have passed and remembering places like my grandmother’s house on Dee Road in Memphis. Sometimes I have a longing to go back to those people and moments that is so strong that it feels overwhelming.

Maybe it’s because I’m really wanting to go back to when times were simpler. At least they were for me. I didn’t have so many cares or concerns. I knew my parents loved me and would take care of me. I knew my family loved me and watched out for me.

I see now that the times weren’t necessarily simpler, but my life was simpler. Because my parents did their job, I didn’t have to grow up carrying the proverbial weight of the world, dealing with issues beyond my years. I could be a kid, safe and secure from all alarms.

I do think the world seemed less chaotic than it does now. Maybe that was because of the absence of 24-hour news channels constantly telling me how bad the world is. Maybe it’s because I was blissfully unaware of so much of the evil around me. Maybe it’s just that the world is trending down as we get closer to Jesus’ return.

I do know that the Jesus I asked into my heart when I was little is the same one who is with me now. His promises are the same. His presence with me is the same, though I am probably more aware of it — and my need of it. I am just as loved and cared for and cherished and secure as I was back then because it was really Jesus all along who was my protector and provider.

So maybe those places and people I miss were glimpses of something greater that I will only ever fully realize in heaven. Those were like the appetizer before a really great feast. My best days aren’t behind me — they’re ahead and coming soon.

My Mac is On

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As I was scrolling through Facebook memories, I ran across a blog post I wrote two years ago about how I was saving up for my Mac Book Pro (cleverly titled “Get My Mac On”).

Here I am, reading that post on my Mac Book Pro that’s now about a year old (and still as fast as ever). It’s one of those little reminders of how time can change your perspective. Things look quite a bit different in hindsight once you’ve had a little time to gain that perspective.

Thankfully,  I never became an Apple snob who looks down at anything PC or Microsoft  (or Samsung). I just happen to prefer my Mac to my old PCs.

I also realize that at the end of the day, it’s still all just stuff. As much as I like my stuff, it doesn’t come close to bringing true fulfillment or happiness. It can’t begin to compete with what really matters: people and spending time with them and making memories with them.

The best use for technology that I’ve found lately is that it helps me to remember. I check out Timehop and see my old cat Lucy and see old friends that I hadn’t thought about in a while. Every now and then, I see old pictures from the Stone Age from when I was little (and yes, they did have photography back then– in color!)

I also remember that there were a few times when I never thought I’d be able to get my Mac. I didn’t think I had the patience and the discipline. This blog post written on my Mac goes to show that as long as you’re still breathing, it’s never too late and there’s always still hope.

And yes, my blog posts ARE 35% hipper and trendier now.

https://oneragamuffin.wordpress.com/2015/10/09/update-on-getting-my-mac-on/

Boxing Day Randomness

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Here it is, the day after Christmas, when the usual sense of post-holiday despair sets in.   Only this time, I’m at peace with the world and feeling very much contented.

I still love the joy on the faces of my nephews and niece at opening their presents. It’s such a fleeing pleasure that gradually dims a little as they grow another year older.

Speaking of growing older, I’m finding that my own joy comes less and less from the gifts I receive and more and more in the giving. It’s less about the spectacle and more about the quiet moments where the full meaning of the reason for the season sinks in a bit further.

I’m not taking for granted that everyone I love will always be around– even for next Christmas. I’m learning to savor all the times we spend together, to soak in as many memories as I can before it all becomes past tense.

I didn’t quite get around to all the required holiday movie viewing, so I may have to extend the deadline on that one just a bit. I still haven’t seen A Christmas Story, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, or Elf yet. I know, I know. I’m seriously slacking.

I’m also thinking of ways to carry on the Christmas spirit beyond December into the new year. I’m thinking of the sermon at the end of The Bishop’s Wife. David Niven’s character says that the best gift for the baby in the manger who’s birthday we’re celebrating is treating others like we want to be treated. Or better yet, treating others and loving others like Jesus has loved us.

There really should be some kind of special observance for December 27. I’m not ready to give up the Christmas season cold-turkey. Maybe I can commemorate it by continuing to live out that spirit of generosity and kindness and seeking to live a more Christlike life.

That should be a good start.

 

Boxing Day 2016

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Christmas Day officially ended 37 minutes ago. Even though I know that the Christmas spirit lives on, I’m always a little sad to see the day end because I know it means the end of all those festive decorations and lights.

Still more than that, it means the end to the time when I feel most closely connected to the past and all those family and friends who are no longer here. Somehow, those memories seem to visit me a little more freely at this time and I’m a little more thankful for them.

The beauty of Christmas is that because of the child born in the manger, no one I loved is ever really lost to me. I have the hope of seeing them again one day. Those of us who have received the greatest gift of Christmas in the form of Jesus can grieve not as those who have no hope but will the full assurance of the blessed hope that Christ has given to us.

That’s the same hope that nullifies any fear of death and the grave. It cancels out any fear of what anybody here on earth can do to me. That hope not only gives me a future but also an abundant life here and now.

It’s now 12:45. It’s all quiet except for the sound of my geriatric cat purring on the pillow next to mine. I’m still trying to make sense of the blur that has been the last five weeks since Thanksgiving.

I know that the next Christmas Day rolls around in 364 days but I also know the promise that day holds will be good tomorrow and the day after that and through all the days of the year.

That same gift that came in the manger so long ago is still available to anyone who asks and seeks the Christ in faith.

 

 

Random Life Lesson

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If I could give you one random life lesson, it’d be this– celebrate the life you have and not the life you wish you had. Enjoy the season of life you’re in by living in it rather than merely marking time until the next season or pining over the last one.

If this isn’t where you want to be, make the most of the present by preparing yourself now for who you want to be when that life you really want does come around. If you’re single, that means you work on being the right person more than looking for the right person. As my pastor said more than once, when the time comes, you can’t start getting ready– you have to be ready.

Most of what really constitutes life happens while we’re busy making other plans. Or to rephrase it for more modern times, life is what happens when you’re looking down at your phone and texting about what you wish would happen. Oh, the delicious irony.

It’s not the grand cinematic moments that you remember most fondly. It’s a combination of several unobtrusive small moments that add up to great memories.

Don’t base your identity on what might happen and on the next phase– in other words, if you’re single, don’t define yourself in terms of a future spouse, or if you’re married, in terms of future children. Let God be the one who tells you who you are now and let that define how you live in the future, spouse or no spouse, children or no children.

As the old Robert Earl Keen song says, all you have is today. So much time and effort is wasted on worrying about what probably will never be. So much energy is depleted in obsessing over possible scenarios that never come to pass.

Just enjoy your present for the gift that it is.

 

Tonight We’re Gonna Blog Like it’s 1,999

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I had a random memory today. And I mean random in the sense that it wasn’t connected to anything current.

I was thinking back on a sermon by my pastor, Aaron Bryant, where he mentioned listening to The Beastie Boys’ Licensed to Ill back in the day.

That got me thinking about a particular youth group trip way back in ’86 or ’87 in the Ridgeway Baptist Church bus with Jason Payne sitting in the very back of the bus with his ghetto blaster playing that same Beastie Boys album at full volume. I think we were on our way to that year’s Youth Evangelism Conference in Nashville (of all places).

I remember very little else about that trip. But I remember the Beastie Boys.

I bet I must have heard that CD all the way through at least two or three times.

You’re probably wondering where the oh-so-spiritual tie-in is. There’s really not one.

I just know that certain songs can trigger memories hidden deep in the recesses of my mind and can bring back faces and places from long since past.

2016 just so happens to mark the 30th anniversary of that Licensed to Ill album that ruled the Billboard charts way back in 1986. This way way before Eminem or even Vanilla Ice. For those who grew up solely on CCM fare, this was even before DC Talk.

I suppose you don’t really appreciate the significance of a moment when you’re in it. It’s only after time and distance has given you some perspective that you really do come to see those memories in a new light.

Who knows what we’ll remember about 2016? Hopefully, there will be some moments worth cherishing and remembering, some very happy moments. That’s my prayer for all of you (and for me, too).

Let’s make 2016 a year to remember.