And I’m not sure I can remember their voices. And I fight to remember what it felt like to hug them or how they walked. Panic wants to well up inside me; grasping at the memories. Moments of panic at the threat of forgetting.
Then peace that passes understanding offers me a place to be. I find that even here there is peace that I can trust my Heavenly Father to hold the memories I need, to bring them to mind at the best times. One more thing I can’t control, but it provides the chance for one more place to offer it to Jesus.
I keep learning new ways to trust. New muscles that I didn’t know existed. Have you ever worked out so hard and the next day you “find” those muscles? This has been so strenuous, such a new kind of exertion and there is pain in places I didn’t know existed. There are also places God is showing Himself to be trustworthy that I didn’t know were even an options.
Today it is memories. I can trust God with my memories. When I panic and grasp and feel the experience of them being here slipping away, I can bring it to my gracious, kind, tender Heavenly Father to hold me, and my memories.