I remember the wrong things. Instead of remembering the One who spoke the cosmos into existence loves me I remember the frittata that I served with the still runny center. Rather than remembering that God, who knows the end from the beginning, placed me in the world at the right time and place to fulfill His plan, I remember the thoughtless words I spoke that sent a good man out of my life.
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve made that dish right or how many February’s have come and gone since I spoke without thinking. All I remember is my own failures. Why? Because they reaffirm the belief in my own unworthiness.
I love the great dramas of history but the story of victory is filled with small acts of self-less-ness. I remember my mistakes not Jesus’ self-sacrifice on the cross.
Our human frailty may run just as deep as that first bite of forbidden fruit in the garden. In spite of that Jesus came, became fully human and became the perfect sacrifice in our place.
“If, because of the one man’s trespass, death exercised dominion through that one, much more surely will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness exercise dominion in life through the one man, Jesus Christ.”
Before He went to the cross, our Lord took bread, “and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”1 Corinthians 11:24-25
We are supposed to remember His sacrifice. Which led to our justification. Why do I spend so much time remembering my own shortcomings? It is Lent, a time to let go of my self and focus on Jesus Christ. I remember the wrong things.