Post from July 29, 2023

”👟 RSD 1187 ✅ Today’s Verse: “You alone are the Lord. You made the heavens, even the highest heavens, and all their starry host, the Earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them. You give life to everything, and the multitudes of Heaven worship you.” — Nehemiah 9:6 (1+1+8+7=17➡️day 60 of Summer Verse series➡️60 mod 17=9: then use the 6 from 60)

Do you ever have those “core memory unlocked” moments? Are you on Instagram? I feel like their promoted posts are superior to other platforms. I don’t spend a lot of time on there (I’m talking a few minutes a day), but a quick scroll will grant me some quality entertainment, both from accounts I follow and accounts I don’t. Today, I was scrolling, and one of those “I Love the ‘90s” nostalgia pages had the video of an opening sequence that I hadn’t seen in decades. But, it’s weird: from the first frame, I knew I knew it. Y’all, it was the opening sequence from the mid-90s kids’ show gold, “Flash Forward,” and seeing it made me smile. There was another thing posted: the theme song from “Little Bear,” and I remembered the melody. Scroll and see that Sears commercial from, like, every summer in the ‘90s—the one where the wife asks the husband when he’d call Sears to fix the A/C, so he calls, and the commercial ends with them chilling in the A/C in the middle of a heat wave. Earlier this year, a song came across my radio, “Fast Car” by Luke Combs…only I somehow already knew the tune (like I didn’t know the words, but it sounded like I knew what came next). Upon Googling, I saw that it was a cover of a song from 1988; I had probably heard it on the radio as a kid (yeah, I was born in ‘88, but songs circulated on radio for years). Core memories unlocked. It’s like we pass by the same building or hear the same tune or say the same saying (“We’re #1; can’t be #2! We’re gonna beat the whOOOpie outta you!”) for years, go on with life and “forget,” but it’s somehow still in there. Nostalgia: sometimes it’s a little haunting (no, not the “Who you gonna call? GHOSTBUSTERS!” kind 👻❌), but mostly it just warms you from the inside (like that Campbell’s soup commercial where the snowman coming in from the cold eats the soup, and the snowman’s really a little boy). What is it about remembering things? Remembering where we’ve been, but not in a “look how far I’ve come” sense but rather in the “hey, this still brings me joy, and it’s still me on this long life journey…even though I’m older and things are different” sense. It’s the same us on the journey: we’re just developing (either into who God wants us to be or…not—depending on our choices). Think about it: if you can “grow up,” you can “grow down” too. So, it’s the same us, with the Lord making us new every day if we just ask, a better version of us. So, nostalgia affords us some perspective, a reflection back into our lives, happy times when we were younger and maybe when things seemed less complicated. These core memories are always part of us, and going back to them from time to time lifts us on our journey.

Today’s verse is from the Book of Nehemiah. Upon researching a little for some background on Nehemiah, I found that this book used to be combined with the Book of Ezra, as their stories intertwine. The exact author is unknown (although the first-person style suggests it could’ve been Nehemiah), but we do know that they are in a time of rebuilding Jerusalem after the Babylonians destroyed it. Basically, Nehemiah was an important leader for the Jewish people, having been appointed governor of Judah by the king. Nehemiah was committed to getting his people right with God. We’ve discussed previously how the people of Israel had turned away from God, and how that brought about their destruction by other nations (hey, bad decisions lead to bad decisions). So, Nehemiah was dedicated to having them live in a way that’s in accordance with the Torah (and, of course, God’s plan). But, this was easier in theory than in practice, and he pushed back and forth with people (and sometimes Nehemiah lost his perspective and was forcing people rather than leading them). So, he finds that the hope in rebuilding Jerusalem dwindles with the reality that not everyone was on the same page. In fact, commentary (from The Bible Project) points out that the point of Nehemiah’s story is to illuminate the need for change in people’s hearts. Basically, things (especially things like seeking forgiveness and guidance, renewing the Covenant with God, and trying to live by doing the right things) can’t ultimately be fixed with orders and decrees because it requires the PEOPLE to change, not just things and situations: people as a whole need to change from within. Building new walls of the city with bricks and mortar (or I guess stones and…mortar?) alone will not rebuild their community, but tearing down the walls in the hardened hearts of the people in the community would. Nehemiah did his best to help his people, and, even regarding the things that didn’t turn out as he had hoped, Nehemiah did manage to plant a small seed of something that Israel could grow. Eventually, with the right care, seeds mature and blossom into something new. “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning…” — Lamentations 3:22-23.

Today’s verse is a praise to God, acknowledging the wondrous things He’s done, acknowledging His omnipresence, omnipotence, omniscience, and omnibenevolence. God knows He’s all of these things, but they are still important to acknowledge because it shows our faith and our gratitude, and it helps us to say things aloud that are true so that they are stuck in our brains forever and can help us with courage and hope in times of distress and brings us joy in times of triumph. Core memories. Even when things aren’t going great, we know the One who “made the heavens, even the highest heavens, and all their starry host, the Earth and all that is on it,” is the same One who cares for us more infinitely than the vastness of space. Tying this truth to tangible things helps us to trigger this memory. We can look at the stars and feel loved. We can look at the grass and feel loved. We can look at the mountains and feel small, yet somehow protected, and so loved. We can look at the ocean and feel small, yet somehow protected, and so loved. We can look at the moon and know it was that same moon that the heroes in the Bible (Adam, Eve, Moses, Joshua, Aaron, Ruth, Naomi, Samuel, Isaiah, Nehemiah, Micah, Jeremiah, Hosea, Joel, Habakkuk, Haggai, David, Solomon, Paul, Luke, Jude, Matthew, James, Peter, John, Timothy…and Jesus Christ himself) gazed upon many nights while thinking of ordinary events of the day, of extraordinary events of the time, of God, of people in general, of their friends and family, of what’s to come, of what’s passed, of the world and their place in it. The same moon—the night Jesus was born. Did Mary look upon it and just wonder? The same sun that warms you on a spring day has warmed everyone you’ve ever looked up to, Biblical people, famous people, and people in your life. God, Who “give[s] life to everything,” gives life to all of us every day. Times change, situations change, what’s en vogue changes, outlooks change, but God never does.

God’s always the same, but He knows how different we all are, so God gets our attention in different ways. Truths told in infinitely many ways to guide us on ours. Beautiful truths. Core memories. How does He get your attention? What sweet memory brings it home for you? Something random that hopefully is apropos here, I always wear a necklace that depicts “the man in the moon.” I’ve always loved the moon—no idea why, just always have. See, there’s this show I remember from when I was very young (“The Torkelsons”) where the main character (a girl, maybe like 9?) sits in her picture window at the end of each episode (maybe intermittently as well) and talks to the “man in the moon” (basically out-loud journaling) about what all happened that day, problems, solutions, what she’s learned, her hopes and dreams, the inner monologue of “What should I do now?” coming outward…you get the idea. Her sister notices one day (and I forgot how they got on the subject), but her sister comments to her that this is really her praying and the “man in the moon” thing helps her sort things out and come to God. The girl basically says that it makes sense that God’s listening but that she would’ve been more formal coming to God (like her bedtime and mealtime prayers) instead of just chatting. But, upon reflection, she realizes that she feels at peace in her picture window and that she seems to gain perspective when she sits there and just looks out. She tells “the man in the moon” that she hopes God is ok with her not being so formal when talking to “the man in the moon,” and she ends it with “Amen.” God had used her imagination with “the man in the moon” to teach her how to pray. We’re supposed to come to God with anything and everything. And, here it is years later, and I still remember “the man in the moon.”

Core memories. We all have them. God gives us so many instances in the Bible for us to make core memories. It’s not just information; it’s one of many ways that God lets us know how much we are loved and how we can always lean on Him. So, when we are confronted with life’s catastrophes (both big and small), we can go easily back to what we know is true (“I have hidden Your word in my heart…” — Psalm 119:11). When we’re busy or tired or distracted or frustrated or sad or angry or stuck, we might “forget” temporarily Who is always there for us, but, when we breathe a little bit, when we move forward in courage and hope, we find that those truths we’ve read and heard and said over and over are “somehow still in there.” Those truths of God’s majesty and love warm us from the inside (like that Campbell’s soup commercial); they’re always welcome memories that give us the courage to move forward, the courage to hope. We’re all staring at the same moon each night, and the One who created it is always there for us, ready to listen, forgive, and guide, when we sit down at whatever metaphorical picture window we have available to us.”