Growing up in the church world granted me many opportunities. We were involved in so many great things from theme park trips to competitions, missions and youth conventions.
I was blessed by people who loved me and the young people enough to invest time and energy with us. My pastor’s wife would accompany us often, and any time she sensed bad attitudes rising or stressful moments of setback, she would sweetly declare, almost sing, “Making memories!”
Her feelings were that if things were not going as we had expected, it would be sweetening the story. One day, we would describe what was going on, and the more difficult the circumstance, the more joy came out of telling the story. There have been so many times that this mentality has enriched my life.
I remember the last night of my junior year in college, when all my friends got together in one vehicle and went to Wendy’s. One of my friends wanted to make a memory, so he ordered everything from the dollar menu. The cashier acted like he’d lost his mind, but gave us two bags of food.
When we returned to campus, he ate every bit of the 14 objects in the bags and was so sick he nearly missed his last final exam that year. Every time we have gotten together since graduation, we laugh about the night we heard, “Ma’am, I have a very simple order. One of everything on the dollar menu.”
One time, I went hunting with my dad when I was 16, and I got my truck stuck. While waiting for someone to come pull us out of the ditch, I decided to clear the trees nearby so they didn’t scratch my truck.
As I attempted to break a particularly determined tree, it snapped right at my hands, which were bending it toward the ground, and it swung into my nose so hard it spun me 90 degrees. Like a jab in the boxing ring, the tree knocked me in a different direction.
The impact broke my nose, and I let out a panicked shriek. My dad still loves telling that story. He has laughed so hard, and I can even laugh about it (now).
My first church job was working at my home church. My pastor always had an issue with churches that shut down their service on Sunday evening for the Super Bowl. He would tease me often that he would preach longer those nights to keep me from the game.
It was all in jest. However, my last year serving with him gave me great joy. My firstborn son was born two days before the Super Bowl that year, so we came home just in time to catch the game. I told him I had planned the day of his birth so I could watch the game. We have had a great laugh about that.
Truthfully, Luke’s delivery was very unplanned and quite scary, but once things settled, it was nice to find joy in the details.
Whatever you are dealing with today, there is the possibility of living in such a way that you can tell a great story. I hope you find a different way to order dinner, laugh about a painful tree assault or see the positive of a scary situation. The best stories come from the toughest moments.
So, the next time you enter a stressful event, think, “Well, I’m making a memory.”
Often, what we wish we wouldn’t have to remember becomes the very thing worth remembering the most! The journey and not the destination is where all the best stories live.
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