Remembering the past...

It’s funny how some of us remember things from our childhood or our past. I remember so many incidents from my childhood, although so many of the good memories I simply cannot remember.

I remember falling down a long ladder leading up to the loft at our Combs bungalow. I’m not sure how old I was, but no older than five. Being such an inquisitive child I climbed up the ladder to the loft following my dad, who was taking up some boxes and sorting his guns out in his cabnet. I clearly remember missing on of the ladder runs and falling a long way to the ground, banging my head numerous times on the runs of the ladder and the wall. My dad heard the thud of me hitting the ground and jumped down to get me. Apart from screaming the house down and having a sore head, I seemed quite fine and fell asleep crying in my dad’s arms. No major injuries at least! When my mum returned home she found me in bed asleep, but woke me up because she saw my face was black and blue all over. I remember feeling alright. The next day I went to play school as usual, in fact, I remember walking with my nana. It wasn’t long after playing with my friends that I began feeling sick and very dizzy. With that I was sick and the play school leader phoned my parents to pick me up. I can remember the hospital visit and feeling rather glad I didn’t have to go to playschool for quite a while! My play school leader still works in Combs but now in the supermarket there. She doesn’t remember me but I will never forget her kind face.

On another occasion I burnt my bum on an iron. I was being rather naughty and winding my mum up, so she took my kite off me. She put it in the place where I hated things going – on top of the kitchen wall cabnets. I could never sneakily get things back if they were put there! Mum was busy doing the ironing, but left to put some folded clothes away in one of the rooms. At this quick chance I had, I worked out a way of climbing onto the work surface by using the washing machine door. I grabbed the kite down from the cupboard and as I bent over to climb back I touched the iron. For a few seconds I was OK, but then let out an almighty scream. I remember feeling the sting and pain of the burn for ages but I was most interested with the shape it left on my cheek! The burn mark has gone now, but I still remember that day. Although it was bad at the time, it is awfully funny looking back.

I also remember my parents divorce. They did an awful job of keeping it quiet from us. I remember my two brothers sitting watching TV while I was listening at the hall way door to the arguments and discussions my parents were having. I kept making things up to my brothers saying that mum and dad were going to buy lots of lollipops and bring them home. However, my brothers knew the score already and clearly told me in return that they were discussing where dad was going to live. I remember not understanding, thinking we were all going to move. They said no, only dad was moving. I remember being stunned, even at such a young age. Speechless, probably for the first time in my short life!

It’s funny the things we remember isn’t it. I remember other things as well of course, but none quite as vivid as these three strange incidences. So what am I going on about?

Well, some people say that life isn’t about the past. But I disagree. I don’t think we should live in the past, but I do believe that the past does matter. What HAS happened to us has a huge impact on our lives, the future and the present. What I have been doing, after returning from Zimbabwe, is try to piece together a large jigsaw puzzle. The puzzle is my life and the purpose of it, the reasons I do certain things and think certain things and it is about why I am alive. You’ve probably heard we cannot change the past, but we can change the future. Before we walk along the path of life, we have to build it. We can build it with lumps and rocks in our way if we want too, or we can have a clear, smooth path on which to walk. In other words we can let the things that have happened to us in the past affect our future, or we can choose to overcome the past and move on fruitfully, growing in confidence and love. My trip to Zimbabwe has exposed me to many things that I wish I hadn’t had seen or experienced – facing the poor, homeless children, the little abused girl at Mt Selinda orphanage – however, these things are changing my life (still) and they will affect my future. I can forget them but then I will have learnt nothing and the trip would have been pointless. I can remember them and move on in my life to a place where God can make me a better person because of what has happened. How can I use the memories of the poor and the memories of those in need to make my life better, to make me more loving and to make me a better follower and friend of Jesus? I can I piece together the jigsaw of all I have experienced in my whole life to understand the bigger picture so I am more aware of the needs of my neighbour?