It’s amazing to me how moments that we actually lived can totally slip from our memories. I think about that sometimes, I think about what I’m seeing with my eyes, hearing with my ears, touching with my fingers — how moments that are my actual present will someday be gone from my memory. I don’t want to forget the little moments (or the big ones) with my family. It bothers me how much I’ve already forgotten about my life, and my children’s lives.
I know life isn’t all about documenting and remembering every moment but I still find power in remembering, in the writing down, in the photographing, in the documenting. I love looking through my journals and reading about where I was in my heart 7 years ago, or 1 year ago, or when I was 8 years old. I love seeing how God has worked in my life through reading my journal, because honestly, sometimes I forget.
I am thankful for this little blog and for my private journals and for the millions of photographs I have that help remind me of God’s great love and grace for even me. Each entry and each photo is a naming of gifts, a naming of grace, and I hope to never forget.
This post is a part of a 31 day series in which I write about the extraordinary in my ordinary moments. To see a list of all the other posts, click here.