Memories
Three random memories that came to mind today, God's faithfulness in the past, affecting the present and stretching out into the future.
A customer and Laura and I were talking about drinking hot water, and I was thinking back to when I first remembered enjoying hot water, and decided that it was probably the semester I studied abroad in China. When we were on a service project on a chilly mountain top in Guizhou, and suddenly the silly, cheap water bottle that Tim carried everywhere and kept filling up with steaming water became a prized object, something that would warm our hands for a moment. It was in that freezing place, on a night when the generator wasn't working and we were sitting around in the main building, telling stories by candlelight, that I looked around at my group mates and thought, Wow. This is exactly where I'm supposed to be right now, and there is no where I'd rather be. That was probably the point at which I was hooked on China. And oh, that little water bottle. It's taken a beating in the four years since it made that trip, but it was along for the road trip a month ago.
I was walking towards the Square downtown, when I caught a glimpse of the hospital sign. And I remembered how, not that long ago, not many months, I was walking towards that same hospital with a heart full of hopeful fear, or fearful hope, praying that Maggie was okay. And she was. I texted her tonight, mostly to say, I'm glad that you're alive. And I was glad to have an excuse to say it.
Tonight, as I walked home in the warm humidity, the iPod shuffled its way right to the first song of the Creation: The Story of Life album, and all of a sudden, I was at my thirteenth birthday party again. A glorious evening, I thought, the first time I'd ever seen any of the Star Wars movies. I wanted to work for NASA, so the theme was space. But my clearest memory of that birthday is standing next to the boom box, listening to the music of that first track, and tears streaming down my face as it faded into the audio of Apollo 8's Christmas message. Space is glorious; every time I listen to that music, it reawakens a bit of the old hunger in me, and I look forward to adventures in the ages to come.
A customer and Laura and I were talking about drinking hot water, and I was thinking back to when I first remembered enjoying hot water, and decided that it was probably the semester I studied abroad in China. When we were on a service project on a chilly mountain top in Guizhou, and suddenly the silly, cheap water bottle that Tim carried everywhere and kept filling up with steaming water became a prized object, something that would warm our hands for a moment. It was in that freezing place, on a night when the generator wasn't working and we were sitting around in the main building, telling stories by candlelight, that I looked around at my group mates and thought, Wow. This is exactly where I'm supposed to be right now, and there is no where I'd rather be. That was probably the point at which I was hooked on China. And oh, that little water bottle. It's taken a beating in the four years since it made that trip, but it was along for the road trip a month ago.
I was walking towards the Square downtown, when I caught a glimpse of the hospital sign. And I remembered how, not that long ago, not many months, I was walking towards that same hospital with a heart full of hopeful fear, or fearful hope, praying that Maggie was okay. And she was. I texted her tonight, mostly to say, I'm glad that you're alive. And I was glad to have an excuse to say it.
Tonight, as I walked home in the warm humidity, the iPod shuffled its way right to the first song of the Creation: The Story of Life album, and all of a sudden, I was at my thirteenth birthday party again. A glorious evening, I thought, the first time I'd ever seen any of the Star Wars movies. I wanted to work for NASA, so the theme was space. But my clearest memory of that birthday is standing next to the boom box, listening to the music of that first track, and tears streaming down my face as it faded into the audio of Apollo 8's Christmas message. Space is glorious; every time I listen to that music, it reawakens a bit of the old hunger in me, and I look forward to adventures in the ages to come.
:)
ReplyDeletehuh, whaddya know? I was never sure if you liked that album or not. :)
ReplyDelete