You know those moments in life when the most odd flashback comes up. It is almost like you feel like it could be a déjà vu moment, but you know for a fact that the memory is real; even though you feel as if you are watching it on a screen. I will willingly admit that I automatically assume most church events that I am going to attend, I am going to dislike, and I realize that this attitude probably does not help in any way, shape, or form, but it seems to be a part of the general glass half-full mentality that I have come to adopt in the past recent months. (Apparently, I have also developed a liking for excessive run-on sentences.) Tonight I sat in a church sanctuary that I have never been in before, and had low expectations for the evening. However, after an opening song that I had not heard in forever, I was transported. Now, it was not some religious experience, nope, something way more corny, and occasionally moving. It was a hot Northern California July night, under a huge white big-top tent filled with low blue chairs that were set atop a bed of woodchips.
I did not realize that I was getting old enough to be nostalgic, but apparently, I have arrived to that point, because not only was I transported back to a time and place, that seems like it barely exists anymore, but to an old church building that had red stained carpets, and stone walls. A bunch of young kids acting like complete idiots, doing silly motions to songs that I thought I had long forgotten. I remember not caring much about what people thought about me, and we acted like idiots. It hardly seems as if I lived that life, for it is so far removed now.
These thoughts and memories realized that for some strange reason, for the last several days, I have been living in a time machine. For the first time in a while I put my ipod on shuffle, and just let it take me on a musical journey of sorts. One of the first songs that caught my attention was a good ole fashion 1990’s boy band ballad. I was serenaded by the melodies of the Backstreet Boys. The teeny-mushy-corny-and oh so catchy lyrics transported me back to being so much younger than I am now. I could not help but belt out the words of, “I don’t know who you are, where you’re from, what you did, as long as you love me.” It made me feel so young again, and the memories came. Times that I remember singing that song; who I was at that point in time in my life.
I do not think I was a bad kid or youth, but I know for a fact that I was challenging. A lot of who I was back then, is still who I am now, but I have learned to harness, capture, and surrender a lot. I guess it would simply be said, I allowed myself to start to grow up. The thing is, in that, I look back, and I see aspects of my life that I have lost in this refining process that I wish I could have retained. These are not just limited to personal characteristics, but other things as well. A key part of a lot of the memories, of my own personal time machine are people; there are very significant people in those memories, who I no longer have any form of relationship with. Now, that is a part of growing up, but when I think about the end of those relationships, I feel quite sad. Living in a time machine is not healthy, but a couple days spent there I think can be quite prosperous.
God loves you just as you are, but he loves too much to let you stay that way.
I might have just butchered that particular quote, but I am almost completely sure that anyone who reads this has a high enough competency that they will get the point. A couple of days in a time machine, with a few key moments, and my heart becomes overwhelmed by the idea of sovereignty and deliverance. Nostalgia is an interesting thing. We overlook the bad, and focus on the good. That does not mean that it is bad to remember the good times, but in those memories, I completely forgot the pain, devastation, and the negative aspects of my life at that point in time. I cannot start to imagine what my life would look like, if I would have stayed locked into who I was at those points in my life.
God in his sovereignty has delivered me from myself and my past. He continues to mold, grow, heal, refine, and do miraculous works in my life. It was kind of funny the way that this time machine came into being in my life. However, this great realization is a very welcomed piece of the jigsaw puzzle. I think that it is always good to be reminded that God works all things to the good of those who love Him, and how fortunate we are to be in that category.
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