Being a God-glorifying, world-beautifying memory.

I love that God created us with memories.
I love being able to take myself back to visit places, see faces and hear songs.
I love that feeling when you remember something wonderful whether it’s a hilarious moment, a fabulous food or a great conversation.
I also love that certain things or places hold special significance to us because of a memory. There’s a cold little bedroom in a cottage in North Wales that I remember fondly because of time spent with my sisters. There’s a sofa in a sitting room in North London that reminds me of getting to know my now husband. There’s a climbing frame in a field full of trees that remembers the many conversations, problems and playtimes of two little girls. There’s a dingy performing arts studio where I listened to, talked and ate with God. There’s a little blue Nissan Micra that has heard many, many prayers and conversations and seen many tears. As I write those examples pictures and words come rushing back to me. And I feel as if I’m back in those places. Saying and hearing those things. With those people. And even though a little blue Micra and a cold bedroom aren’t the most beautiful of places, places where you’d expect to have wonderful memories, they are places which make me smile and remember time spent with people and lessons learned.
I love the thought that for someone a small, navy sofa in a 2 bed flat in the village of Goring on Thames might hold that significance. I want to make my home and my company things which make people remember. Not for the beauty of my home or the sparkle of my wit (though obviously those are both present!) but for the time spent together, the lessons learned, the prayers prayed, the tears cried and the laughter that bounced off the walls. I want to be a God-glorifying, world-beautifying part of memories and lives.
Father, give me grace to be so.