I must be ever so careful to remember that my pain is a precious salve that when used in the service of others can heal a thousand wounds and more. And I must likewise remember that if I do not use it as such, I have done nothing more than wound myself yet again.

Sometimes it only takes a simple thought to help us remember what it took us years to forget.

To forget is to blithely toss aside the hard lessons that were hard won by others before us, thereby needlessly dooming us to endure the hard lessons that are likely to be forgotten by those who will follow us. And it is altogether reasonable that in order to avoid this repetitive trouncing, God graciously granted us memories.

Are we leaving the kind of footprints in the kind of places that will cause people to remember the kind of person that we want to be remembered as? If not, maybe we should take a hard look at the shoes that we’re wearing and evaluate where we’re wearing them.

It’s really a rather simple thing to bring balance to my anger. All I need to do is remember that the ‘hand of cards’ that have been dealt to me pale in comparison to the ‘deck of cards’ that I’ve thrown at others.

Memory is a few lines snipped from a larger story that we are privileged to tuck away between the pages of our minds.

Apathy takes root when I refuse to remember that which I can ill-afford to forget.

Do I forget, or do I refuse to remember?

What I would be quite wise to remember is that ‘pieces’ are not the end of what was, but the beginning of what is to be.