As we previously discussed, memories are a critical thing to hold onto. Without knowing who you are and where you came from, you can never have clarity as to why you’re here or where you’re going. Today, however, I intend to explore the problem that comes from a memory which holds on too tightly to some things which are better left forgotten. We all have parts of our past we’re not proud of, or things that have hurt us which we’d prefer to forget, but can’t due to the deep scars. There are things in each of our lives which we’d rather leave behind us, but because of the deep emotional hurt or disappointment it caused us, we simply can’t purge the memory. Holding onto the past can sometimes be like trying to swim with a bowling ball in one arm. 

In my preface post, I mentioned that our problem with memory is twofold: First, we tend to forget things we’re supposed to remember. Second, is that we often tend to remember things which we’re supposed to forget. An acute memory is a double-edged sword in the sense that very often our minds will latch onto old hurts and failures which are better left forgotten.

The bible has much to say on the subject of forgetfulness. Admittedly it’s not as popular of a subject as remembrance (there are only 64 instances of the word “forget”), nevertheless, it’s a skill that we’re still commanded to practice.

I recently watched the Lion King with my girlfriend. Not only was it was a fun reminder of my childhood, there was also a very important scene in it which directly ties into this post which I’ve been planning to write for some time. A good friend of mine once told me that God only gives one message to each of his children which He designed for us to preach throughout our entire lives. After months of pondering what that meant, I realized one day that not only was he absolutely right, but also that I’ve known for years what my message was supposed to be. As I said in a previous post, I believe that message can be summed up in the one-word command, “remember.”

In the movie the Lion King, Simba experiences a terrible tragedy with the loss of his father. Worse still, his evil uncle Scar convinces him that it’s HIS fault Mufasa died, and that he should never return to Pride Rock because of his shameful act. Simba spends his adult years drifting, keeping company with a strange meerkat and warthog, until along comes his childhood friend Nala. Upon recognizing each other, Nala demands that he return to Pride Rock to challenge Scar’s tyrannical rule of the kingdom and reclaim his right to the throne. Simba refuses, believing his earlier actions have left him beyond redemption… until a chance encounter with a wise old monkey causes him to change his mind and return to reclaim his birthright to the throne.

Ever since I was a child, my dad has had the above plaque hanging in our house, which contains the Dudley family coat of arms. The latin family motto inscribed at the bottom reads “Nec gladio, nec arcu.” I took it upon myself one day as a teenager to translate it from Latin, and discovered it means, “Neither Sword Nor Bow.” For the longest time I had no idea what that meant (were we supposed to be pacifists or something?), until one day I was reading the Bible and came across Psalm 44:4-8 (above).


Spending time with my grandmother (my dad’s mom) this Christmas was a good reminder to me of some of my family’s personal history. She’s been into family genealogy research for many years now, and because I’m something of a history nerd, I’ve actually found a lot of her research very interesting. We can trace our family line back through the Civil War, where some of our relatives were buried north of Atlanta, through to Thomas Dudley, one of the governors of the Massachusetts Bay Colony,  all the way to pre-Elizabethan England, where Dudley Castle was owned by several prominent nobles, notably John Dudley, 1st Duke of Northumberland, who led an unsuccessful attempt to install Lady Jane Grey on the throne of England. Even though you’re probably yawning about these people, to me understanding where my family comes from gives me a special sense of purpose, and helps me see that I’m just one tiny link in a generations-long chain of people which will continue to extend for centuries after I’m gone.

Obviously the blog has been a little quiet lately. I flew home to see my family in San Diego, and have spent the last few weeks catching up with many friends and loved ones whom I haven't seen in at least seven months, if not longer. Since today is the last day of 2013, I thought I'd take this opportunity to share a quick thought.

For a long time, I've been planning to write a post about the importance of memory. I keep putting it off because the holidays are crazy, and also because I want this to be my most circumspect and meaningful post ever, and I feel immense personal pressure to make it good. This will not be that post, but it is a preface of sorts.

Originally hosted by my brother on his blog (before it went off the interwebs), these two posts were my first public attempt at sharing my personal life experiences.