Funny, for a girl who has a terrible memory, the things I remember.
I still have it hanging in my closet, and when I wear it my mind drifts back to that cold January day.
It was my favorite turtleneck. Deep orange and soft, it not only kept me warm, but complemented my then-jet-black hair. As I drove to meet him, I stopped at the traffic light at Germantown Parkway and Walnut Grove. It was then I heard Shinedown’s 45 for the first time.
Funny, the things I remember.
The sadness of the words wooed my heart. I felt the pain though I knew nothing of it at that time. It would be two years later, like a prophecy, that the lyrics of this song would punctuate my life.
Whatever happened to the young man’s heart?
Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart
Last December, my heart would drown in its decaying state, and I would be swallowed by the same pain sung within that sad melody.
It was today as I dressed for work that I realized I was pulling on a sweater I had not worn in a year.
This would be the very sweater I wore on the last day I saw him.
Funny what I remember.
Black and white. What irony.
Things were black and white that snowy night. He didn’t want me. I wanted him. He had moved on. I hadn’t. He had lied. I had cried. He was gone. And I couldn’t breathe.
My whole life changed in that moment, and for a year, memories of him plagued me like an incurable illness.
For a girl with a terrible memory, I remembered so much.
In a month, our year apart will be dated, and I will think of the 365 days that have passed—a testimony to God’s unfailing love. So much can happen in a just year.
Three years ago began the most painful, but beautiful journey of my lifetime. Two years ago sparked authentic curiosity. One year ago I died in heartbreak. Today, my heart is alive in love.
Thoughts of him now feel like I am swimming through the ashes of another life, because it was another life.
As time passes, God clears more of these ashes from my heart. Every day, those ashes of my past become less and less as love—His love—delicately sweeps them from the darkened spaces within me.
Those ashes of 2010? Yeah, redeemed by the light of 2011.
Dance parties at work. The first time I tried apple cider. Andy Stanley sermons. Meeting a Persian. The dance floor at the Rumba Room. A salsa inspired Justin Bieber mix. The one-way street that was not so one way. An uncleanable crockpot. A scone at Panera. A delicious dirt-cake. Tables at Starbucks where amazing conversations were had. Couches with strategy. Creepy facial hair. Boots that were worn out to Black Friday. Conversation hearts. Breakfast at CKs. A terrible Muppet movie. A warm bonfire. Nertz and Signs. The day I came home from the Connection Classes and wept out of joy.
Years from now, when God and I sit down for coffee, I will share all the ashes of my life with Him and thank Him for the dark places, praise Him for redeeming those dark places, and throw myself at His feet in gratitude for the light He would shine down upon me in every moment of my life.
