Holding a Grudge

Okay... I failed this week. I succumbed to the middle of the afternoon slump and watched Oprah. I know, I know. But it was an episode on medical marvels, basically people who have doctors stumped, and I just love that stuff.

There was this one woman- Jill Price- who apparently has the most amazing memory ever known. Maybe you've heard of her. She can remember every detail of her last 30 years. Tell her a date and she'll tell you not only what day of the week it was, but also what she wore, did, exact conversations had, and most extraordinarily, she feels the same emotions as she did then. Oprah just kept bringing up the issue of how hard it must be to remember every time a person was cruel to her or said something hurtful. Since "time heals all wounds" it seemed to Oprah and Jill that not being able to forget is a horrible thing.

I get that. I've forgotten things intentionally and unintentionally. I can't remember huge chunks of time. And I truly believe that my forgetfulness of hurtful events is God's blessing, not some flaw in my brain.

But here's the thing that hit me hard, the thing I can't stop remembering: what must it be like to be the person who said something hurtful to Jill? How awful must it be to know that she may forgive you for the time you lost your temper, but she can never forget it? I joke that Matt has "selective memory" so I'm not worried about him, but I pray that Abby has a normal memory. I know I won't be a perfect parent and I'm kind of counting on the good times overshadowing my mistakes.

We know that God doesn't forget. That we'll have to account for our lives when they're over. But don't most of us think of that as an out-of-sight out-of-mind issue? Like we can worry about that later? What if we all remembered everything- good and bad- about our lives... wouldn't we wonder each time someone looked at us if they were remembering how cruel or selfish or impolite we'd been? Seriously- how much more cautiously might we all speak and act if we knew our words and actions would, and could, never be forgotten?