A few weeks ago my family decided to go for a walk on the beach after dinner. It was a beautiful evening.
The cool breeze on our faces. The sound of the waves crashing.
The careless laughter of our kids. That feeling of sand between our toes.
You get the picture. It was one of those moments you want to freeze and store in your pocket for later.
And then it happened…
We made our way back to the beach house with my 3 year old on my shoulders. It was dark, but I followed the familiar meander of the path in front of me. Pond on my right. House on my left.
And then I heard a kind of rustling in the bushes to my left. “It’s a dog,” I thought.
And then, heavy breathing. Very heavy breathing. Then suddenly, a dark, creepy, “bigger than a dog” beast emerged from the shadows.
I quickly sped up my pace and then glanced behind me. Sure enough, lo and behold, an 8 foot alligator shuffled across the path about 3 feet from me.
“Move back!” I yelled. Lyndsay and the kids saw what I saw and jumped back just in time to avoid being consumed for dinner. And for what seemed like an eternity, my 9 and 5 year old screamed at the top of their lungs. I mean bloody murder. Full stereo. Surround sound. It was deafening.
The alligator, maybe more scared of us than we were of him, disappeared into the murky waters of the pond and that was that. Whew! We came together for a big group hug – happy to live one more day.
To say we were a little shaken up by it is understatement. Pretty sure we all still have some level of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder going on and could use some professional counseling.
The memory of that moment is still so fresh and vivid and real. I’ve replayed it over and over. I’d like to think if the alligator attacked my family I would have channeled my inner “Happy Gilmore” and punched it in the throat and wrestled it to the ground.
How about you? Maybe it’s not an alligator. But what’s that one memory stuck in your head you keep playing over and over and over on repeat? You think, “I could have ______…” Or you say, “I can’t believe I __________.” And even, “If I could turn back the clock I would _________.”
Maybe it’s a relationship and an action you took or certain words you used.
Maybe it’s a financial or a business decision.
Maybe it’s a tragedy and you wonder what you could have done to prevent it.
Hear me out. I think memories are meant to be blessings that grow us and shape us and chisel us into better versions of ourselves. Memories should grow us not slow us. Refine us not define us. Launch us not limit us.
But here’s the thing: “If our memories outweigh our dreams, the end is near.” -anonymous
We can’t let the memory of an alligator keep us from walking on the beach. We can let that person or that moment or that experience or that decision paralyze our pursuits.
Life is simply too short and too brief to be shackled by the past.
The Apostle Paul says, “One thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead” (Phil. 3:13).
What memories did Paul have to forget? That time he murdered some Christians. And then he was shipwrecked, frost-bitten, nearly starved to death, imprisoned, stoned, and beaten to a bloody pulp.
And then Paul says, “I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”
He had a dream. And that dream outweighed his memories. He wasn’t going to let this or that keep him from fulfilling the dream God had for him.
What is your memory? Let it go. What is your dream? Grab ahold of it.
And may all of us trust in the One who looks past our past and gives us hope for our future.
His name is Jesus.