Remember When?

I know—the good old days weren't all good. As one punster pointed out, "Nostalgia isn't what it used to be!" Even the Bible warns, "Do not say, 'Why were the old days better than these?' For it is not wise to ask such questions" (Ecclesiastes 7:10). We can't go back in time, and in many ways, we probably wouldn't want to anyway.

But now and then, it's healthy to engage in some wistful reminiscing.

Remember when people could pray at graduations without the threat of lawsuits? And stores closed on Sundays out of respect for the Lord's Day?

And most people knew the Ten Commandments even if they didn't obey them? And members of Congress made more money than professional athletes?

Remember when drugs were scarce, divorce was rare, pornography was unmentionable, and people still winced when they heard a four-letter word?

Remember when "call waiting" meant your neighbor had tied up the party line again? And "fast food" meant gulping down your mom's homemade cookies before your brothers ate them first? Remember when "managed health care" meant your parents made you drink your milk and go to bed early? And "cruise control" meant your dad would take away the keys if he found out you had been speeding? And a child's usual babysitters were Grandma and Grandpa, not TV and video games?

Remember when outdoor plumbing meant an outhouse, not a hot tub? And if somebody said he'd been surfing the net, you figured he'd been on vacation in Hawaii? And only spiders cared about web sites, and "chat room" meant the kitchen?

Remember when Memorial Day meant more than sale day at the local mall and the start of barbecue season? Look around this week, and you can still find parades led by misty-eyed veterans wearing tight-fitting military uniforms. You can still hear solemn prayers uttered in quiet cemeteries where old weather-beaten gravestones rest among fresh graves graced by fresh flowers and fresh tears.

One Memorial Day when I was a boy, Grandpa drove into our driveway in his green Fairlane and took me with him to two cemeteries in the rural area where we lived. For some reason, Grandpa owned a wrinkled, hand-written list of the names of local veterans who had died while serving their country. That warm spring morning, Grandpa taught me an unforgettable lesson about gratitude, patriotism, and honor as I helped him find the graves, and then, without saying another word, we placed a little flag next to each one. Later that afternoon, people gathered at the church building to sing hymns like "Faith of Our Fathers" and listen to someone recite Lincoln's Gettysburg Address.

We can't regain the past, nor can we change it. But God uses what we do today to shape the future—which raises some important questions: What will we remember years from now? Will we recall how God helped us love our families, strengthen our nation, and advance the kingdom of Heaven?

Will our children remember our faith, our wisdom, our joy? Or will they recall how busy and frantic and irreverent and selfish we were?

How will the next generation of Christians remember us? Will they admire our loyalty to Christ and his Word, or will they conclude we were the generation that dropped the ball?

Today's choices create tomorrow's pleasant memories—and painful regrets. Let's choose wisely.