Photographs and memories
Christmas cards you sent to me
All that I have are these to remember you
Memories that come at night
Take me to another time…” Jim Croce
Christmas cards you sent to me
All that I have are these to remember you
Memories that come at night
Take me to another time…” Jim Croce
Recently, I
stumbled across a great story about Sir Ernest Shackleton. You may recall that
Shackleton was the famed polar explorer who led three British expeditions to
the Antarctic. After losing the race to the South Pole, Shackleton determined
to cross Antarctica from sea to sea, via the Pole. But disaster struck this
expedition when their ship, Endurance, became trapped in packed ice
and was slowly crushed before the shore parties could land. The crew escaped by
camping on the sea ice until it disintegrated, then by launching lifeboats to
reach Elephant Island and ultimately the inhabited island of South
Georgia, a stormy ocean voyage of 720 nautical miles. It ended up being
Shackleton's most famous exploit.
In the
stirring chapter in which Sir Ernest tells of the loss of his ship among the
ice floes, he describes an incident that touches the soft spot in our own
souls. In the grip of the ice, the Endurance had been smashed
to splinters. The entire party was out on a frozen sea at the mercy of the
harsh and pitiless elements.
Shackleton
came to the conclusion that their best chance of eventually sighting land lay
in marching to the opposite extremity of the floe. At any rate, it would give
them something to do, and there is always solace in activity. So Shackleton
ordered his men to reduce their personal baggage to two pounds each. For the
next few hours every man was busy in sorting out his belongings – the treasures
that he had saved from the ship. As you can imagine, it was a very difficult,
heartrending business. Men stole gloomily and silently away and dug little
graves in the snow, to which they committed books, letters, and various
knickknacks of sentimental value. And when the final decisions had to be made,
they threw away their little hoards of golden sovereigns and instead kept the
photographs of their sweethearts and wives!
Are you like
me? I have a hard time ever throwing away an old photograph. Decades later I
still remember the portrait of my grandparents, probably from their wedding
day, on their bedroom wall. As a child, I loved looking at that old faded
photograph.
One of my
regrets is that I no longer have a portrait of my mother. For years I had a
small wallet size picture of her that I carried in my wallet. But after
decades, it fell apart. There aren’t a lot of photographs from my childhood.
Most of the few that we had were lost in a fire at my sister’s house many years
ago. I think, like so many of us, if we ever had a fire at our home, after we
knew that everyone was safe, if it was at all possible, I’d run back in and
grab all the pictures that I could possibly carry.
My daughter,
Charity, gave me a priceless gift recently. Charity is a very gifted
photographer and has a wonderful artistic sense. For the past few years, she’s
been taking old photographs of our family, having them blown up and framing
them. Her efforts have produced a wall of wonderful memories that we walk by
every day. For my birthday, Charity again had many of these pictures enlarged
and framed.
But there
was one that immediately brought tears to my eyes. It was from a trip to
Atlanta just a few years ago. After my Dad’s death, as with many families, my
brother, Mike, and I had a falling out. To this day, I have no idea what it was
over yet unbeknownst to me, he was very angry with me. I had contacted him and
had asked that since Jane and I would be in the area, could we get together for
dinner?
But Mike was
having no part of it. His wife, Susan, and the rest of his family insisted…and
Mike ultimately came. At first, it was tense and a bit uncomfortable, yet we
were able to rebuild that relationship bridge and left dinner with things
resolved. Unbeknownst to any of us, it would be the last time that we would all
be together. We took a picture that night outside the restaurant of all of us
gathered together. Just a few months later, Mike was gone, having died in his
sleep. He was only 69. His death came without warning. So when I unwrapped that
photograph, tears welled up in my eyes. I was so thankful that he had come that
night and we had been able to restore our relationship.
Photographs
remind us that life is short. As I look back over the pictures of
our family, it seems like just the other day that my children were tykes. Now
they’re all adults, making their own way through life. Life is short. Yet, all
of us struggle with relationships…sometimes with parents, our children or
siblings, even other family members. Ephesians 4:26 commands us, “do not let the sun go down on your anger…” Two
of my family members once went seven years without speaking. How tragic! What a
waste! Every time that you were with one of them, they’d almost incessantly
talk about how angry and mistreated they’d been by the other. They were
miserable to be with. It was nearly impossible to get them to change the
subject. Eventually, they did resolve it, yet seven years were thrown onto the
ash heap of time, gone and never to be restored.
Sadly, some
situations are seemingly irresolvable. Yet, again Scripture commands us in even
those difficult relationships, “If
possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all” (Romans 12:18).
The
one person, the only person that you can control – is you. Make sure that you
have done everything from your side of the relationship to make things right.
Sometimes, you reach a seeming roadblock that appears insurmountable. Make it a
matter of prayer and determine by God’s grace to not let a root of bitterness
wrap its tentacles into your soul, sapping away the peace of God from your own
life (Hebrews 12:15).
Make
lots and lots of memories. There is a cultural myth that memories
are made by some big expensive vacation or event. They’re not. Memories are
part of the day in and day out of life. Some of our family’s favorite memories
are water fights or building a snowman. It was talking late into the night. Or,
even making a meal together. Even huddling as a family around a hospital bed,
to pray together before a surgery.
I
don’t want to mislead you. Because of my family background, I had to work very
hard at it. And more times than I want to remember or even admit, I failed
terribly. But by God’s grace, I’m glad that I kept trying.
We’re
coming into the holiday season. What pictures are you going to take? What
memories are you going to make? Please make lots and lots of them! It’s
possible that they may be the very last ones that you have a chance to
make.
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