A friend with whom Rob and I have not spoken with in a couple of years called this past week. He visited his local Chick-fil-a where their seasonal peppermint milkshake sparked a memory of me.
Perhaps you have a smell that takes you back to being a child in the kitchen with your grandmother, or you hear a song that reminds you of your college friends. Maybe when you see a red flash of a cardinal perched in a pine tree you remember long walks with a loved one. Whatever the memory, I bet you have a trigger that reminds you of someone you love. This week a milkshake took my friend on a trip down memory lane and led to a subsequent phone call.
The truth is in 2012 I cried over a Chick-fil-A peppermint milkshake.
A few days before my scheduled brain surgery, I visited our local Chick-fil-A to find that my favorite seasonal milkshake would soon be on the menu. Unfortunately, I would be in the hospital before the official release of the milkshake. As I questioned the manager about the release date, I quickly found myself crying and sharing the story of my upcoming surgery with a stranger. This is what I wrote on my blog after that visit:
“Do you know what the manager did? He went to the back and made me a peppermint milkshake! He couldn’t sell it to me, because it wasn’t officially on the menu yet. Instead he gave it to me for free. He proceeded to tell me that I could have one any time I wanted and that they would be praying for me… His staff came over to wish me blessings for my surgery and to let me know they could bring food to our home if we needed… They poured out God’s love to me in the form of friendship and a peppermint milkshake.”
Of course, my tears weren’t about a milkshake but my fear and anxiety surrounding my surgery. God used that moment of weakness as a way to remind me that I was not alone. God multiplied my community of support by the means of that creamy peppermint bliss. He still does today, eight years later.
When our friend called this week, unknowingly on the day of my annual MRI, I felt the embrace of my loving Father once again. In a year otherwise filled with bad news and isolation, the memory of a milkshake spanned time and distance to reignite that feeling of community. A reminder that I am not alone.
Memories not only draw us into community with others but they can open our hearts to a deeper connection with our Heavenly Father.
All throughout the Old Testament, God’s people are called to remember. Remember God’s rainbow and promise of protection when the rain falls and you find yourself bracing for the flood. Remember God’s faithfulness when Abraham’s age contradicts God’s abundant promise of lineage. Remember God’s deliverance when a home in Egypt no longer feels safe. Remember God’s miraculous provision when the desert heat seems unbearable and there is no food or water to be found.
Remember and remain faithful.
What if ‘milkshake reminders’ are God’s modern day rainbows? What if a phone call from a distant friend or encouragement from a stranger is a reminder of Emmanuel, God with us? What if God’s way of drawing us back into a posture of remembrance is found in things such as these? When life feels hard and unbearable, God gently whispers, “you are not alone.”
This year has been filled with many things we’d probably like to forget. We’ve had our fair share of waiting and wandering. Our circumstances may look more like the desert than the promised land, but as God’s people we can chose to remember.
Remember the beauty of each changing season even on cold winter nights. Cherish conversations with friends new and old on back porches, Zoom , or a text message. Make new memories surrounding holiday traditions, while reflecting on memories of ones shared in years past.
Remember our promised Savior who came to dwell with us in fleshly form and provide the ultimate deliverance for our souls. Share and savor stories of God’s goodness past or present and personal examples of His kingdom here on Earth. Read the scriptures and dwell on His words, remembering that He is the same God yesterday, today, and forever.
He will carry us through the desert. He will lay paths straight for our future when, like Abraham, the timeline may not be one that we can comprehend. He will provide paths for healing and forgiveness in relationships strained by division. On days when the weight of the world seems unbearable, He will bear it all on our behalf. He hasn’t changed. With each moment of remembering God is calling us into community with Him and whispering… “I am still here. I have not left you. My promises remain.”
