White Walls of Memories

A house is just that—walls that surround our childhood memories—but a home filled with love, laughter, happiness and contentment is far more than our youthful minds can comprehend when we are growing up. For a little moment, we draw strength from tangible blessings, failing to realize that every good thing in life originated in the mind of God. Sad, we sometimes wait too late before we search our memories for pieces that have formed the warp and woof of our lives. We wait too late to realize that "life is a whisper, blowing softly through the years, leaving behind an emptiness that defies description." That is, if we do not harvest those memories.
That grand old white clapboard farmhouse had its store of treasured memories—voices of Mother and Daddy—the love that passionately drove them to nurture and raise nine children who would be their legacy, their offering to the Lord for his generosity to them.
God's anticipatory grace has supplanted all the memories of promises broken, of stumbling and falling, of miserably failing. We cannot outthink him or cause him to change his mind about us, for he is omniscient and immutable, his mercy, love and grace confirmed on Calvary's Cross when his Son, the Lord Jesus, died for our sins—past, present, future. Try as we may, we cannot take him by surprise, nor can we do anything on life's short journey that would cause him to love us less.
Isaiah 55: 8-11. "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts."


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