If You Knew Me When…

I have a love-hate relationship with seeing and/or interacting with people from the past. The “hate” portion is more of a heavy dislike. It’s often awkward, especially if we haven’t communicated in 10+ years. And, if I’m being honest, it likely stems from insecurity – just how did I present myself in middle school? In my mid-twenties, was I really a decent human to those around me? Past people force me to face and own up to who I was, choices I made, how I treated others… and I have no control of how my actions or words are remembered, or how they made people feel. 

But, I also LOVE getting to take a trip down memory lane with someone from my past. You, friends, validate certain pieces of my memories. Certain pieces of me

I tend to parcel my life into different “lives lived”. There are significant markers, seasons, moments – usually divided out by places I’ve lived. Growing up in Columbia, Missouri. College at Truman State University. Summers and years working full-time at Camp Eagle in Texas. A brief stint in Beverly, Massachusetts at seminary. More years at Glorieta, New Mexico. A new discovery of life back in my hometown – now for three years (wild!)! Each can feel like a different life. At times, a different Debbie. 

But now, living back home, it’s inevitable that I run into people from the past. And while I’ve remained largely absent from the social media scene that connects me to many from alllll of those places and significant seasons in my life, there have been moments, interactions, and conversations lately that piece me back together. One Debbie with one life, not 6 Debbies with 6 lives. After all, we are whole beings… not divided, try as I may.

So, when I get the chance, I relish the moments to conjure up memories with others. Those times remind me that those moments were real that they actually happened. That I was who I was (even if those weren’t my favorite or best versions of myself)… and those things all work together to make me who I am, in this one life. Your role is significant – not just in my life, but the many others you have known and journeyed with. 

And so now, a trip down memory lane… because maybe it does for you what it does for me. Maybe it will serve as a reminder that in the worst, hardest, best, happiest moments/relationships/situations – we are being shaped. Molded. Becoming. Not stuck in who we were, but embracing that we are people in motion. When we validate the memories, we remember that we are never alone in this journey. So many folks have been along for the ride, even if we no longer share the same zip code.

So buckle up, friends. 

We are going on a ride.