Misty Water Colored Memories

It’s been nearly a month since my husband and I helped his 90-year-old mother clean out her home, another step toward finalizing her move to an independent living facility. Now that we’re past the physical exhaustion and emotion of the week, I think I have a little bit better perspective.


Every transition is bittersweet. While my mother-in-law appears to enjoy the services and community of her new “home,” finalizing the move from the house that has been home for nearly 50 years is difficult. Making good decisions about how to dispose of a lifetime’s worth of goods often brought her to tears and us to exasperation. Having downsized ourselves in recent years, my husband and I were much more inclined to categorize dusty attic treasures as “stuff” to be relegated to the dumpster. For my mother-in-law, however, nearly every item was a memory. For one who could not remember where she placed her keys the night before, I was amazed at her ability to recall the occasion and/or the giver of every knick knack or memento.

A wise friend explained that as we age, the thing we fear most is losing our memory. What helps us remember? A trigger. Something tangible—a vase of dusty plastic flowers, a chipped mug, a hopelessly outdated piece of furniture, a brittle, fading newspaper clipping. Remove the trigger, the elderly person reasons, I just may lose the memory. When that’s gone, can the rest of my mind be far behind?

What is it about our minds that we struggle to forget those things we’d prefer not to remember, like the words I spoke to my mother-in-law in frustration—and to remember those things we don’t want to forget, like all those delightful, innocent comments from our children that we vowed to put in a book some day. I’m reminded that God’s “memory” is perfect. He forgets what we want him to forget – our sins. Not only is he merciful toward our faults and failures (Hebrews 8:12), he removes them as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12). They are gone forever – in the cosmic dumpster – never to return. Even better, He never forgets, but always remembers his covenant promises (Psalm 105:8). He remembers that I am His, bought with a price, destined for eternity together. He doesn’t need a cheap memento to trigger the memory.

Judy Hagey
Ascending Leaders team