"Unglued..."

Hey All,

As we enter the summer season we also face a time of remembrance. There’s Mother’s Day, Memorial Day, Father’s Day, Independence Day; all times of the year, when are hearts are focused on the sacrifice of others. Sacrifices of time, money, emotional support, even life itself, that guided the world into a place of opportunity, where many individuals are able to lead lives of love, opportunity, and meaning; of course, we still have a long way to go. But, this fact, that we are imperfect, the reality that many people in the world are still suffering, cannot shadow our heritage; because through the men and women of the past we can gain insight into who we will become. From time to time we might disagree with our history; but, we can always learn from it. Deuteronomy 6:6-9, instructs us to, “Write these commandments that I've given you today on your hearts. Get them inside of you and then get them inside your children. Talk about them wherever you are, sitting at home or walking in the street; talk about them from the time you get up in the morning to when you fall into bed at night. Tie them on your hands and foreheads as a reminder; inscribe them on the doorposts of your homes and on your city gates.” Our culture values tradition, it values history, it values the people who came before us.

Nevertheless, sometimes in life we meet a person that, not only teaches us, but forever changes every single ounce of us. So that the person we were, the person we knew, disappears forever. In this season of memory, I have an extra day of remembrance. When I was ten years old, I was blessed by the birth of a baby sister, Lindsay Anne, on July 5th. Back then, we had the most sincere relationship a brother and sister could possess. I would wake early on Saturday mornings to take care of her, so that my mother could sleep-in. I savored this private time together, and often times I would rouse Lindsay early to expedite the wait. A charming little redhead with dark blue eyes and a glowing smile, she’d sit with me and watch cartoons. Most often, my favorite shows; Lindsay, in hindsight, probably didn’t get much out of them but never fussed. We never fought and I can hardly remember getting frustrated with her. I cherish these times as my most significant, my happiest, because I was never the same after that. The third weekend in October was the last weekend Lindsay and I sat in front of a television and laughed together; because she died, unexpectedly, on Wednesday, October 26th 1994. I often think about Lindsay and everything she could have become. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of everything we wouldn’t do; especially when these ordinary moments were some of my best. I can only imagine what could have been.

It took a long time for me to understand the meaning in her life, once it was gone. What difference could it make? I am not a person that takes comfort in the rationalization that all things happen for a reason. Any time a person attempted to comfort me with a similar logic, I was driven further into disconsolation. In time I learned to find Lindsay’s charm inside my own heart, I discovered that when I thought about the person she was, the person I was with her, the more self-assured and calm I felt. I learned to channel my beliefs, my thoughts, and my dreams through her memory - to aspire to something greater than my own selfish whims. Lindsay helped me appreciate what was truly important in life; and moving forward, how to find it. Lindsay will not be at my wedding, she won’t be there when my first child is born, she won’t be there to hold my hand when I bury our parents, and we won’t grow old together; but I am a better person because of her. I will never forget how a two year old taught me to be a man. In this season of memory, I know the most difficult part of remembering is finding people willing to listen - because a lot of people are terrified of what to say. But, as the scripture mentioned, we are encouraged to talk. It’s not easy shedding tears over memories that are a decade, or several decades old; but this is how we keep these people's memory alive, how we honor all that they were; by not forgetting who we became - because of them. This is how we grow. The band Tait has a wonderful song, “Unglued” about the pains of loss and how to cope. “Restless and alone. A weary soul has traveled home. What am I to do - In a world without you? I don't want to believe. I turned around and you're gone. All the sweet memories - Of loving you for so long. Sometimes it's hard. Most times I cry. But God holds this heart of mine. He feels the pain inside.” If in the coming months you need me, I’ll be here to listen as I hope you will be for me.

Peace,

Ben

Like what you heard? Maybe you just think Ben himself is really cool. Join the group InspireNow: Ben's Devotionals. And make sure to check out http://blog.myspace.com/bendogg662 for even more of Ben's devotionals.</p>