Old memories die hard

  Last night I was flooded with old memories. Memories that havent resurfaced for a long time. Memories about old friends, fun times, hurt, pain, hope, lament, and mourning. I sat there for a long time wondering what happened, what I could have done differently, and if there was ever hope of restoration. That lead to wondering what would have happened if all those memories were just a dream and they were erased. I sorta let the old wound resurface and I mourned over it again, like it was fresh. I knew there was no turning back, but the loss was greater then I had let myself remember before. Its easy to think that its no big deal, but when you're really truthful with yourself, those memories are pieces of you- pieces that are tender and even raw to the touch.
  This morning I woke up in the same battlefield, and I decided I couldnt allow myself to wallow any more. I needed to jump into action. I have done what I physically can, by asking for forgiveness, trying to make the wrong right again. Yet my heart still aches for restoration. The only thing I could decide to do was pray. I couldnt relive those memories over and over again like a movie reel in my mind. I couldnt wonder what if anymore. What I could do was bust open heavens gates and lay those memories at the feet of Jesus. I could act as an intercessor between the lost and God, pleading for the Holy Spirit to break through walls and demolish strong holds. That there will be misery in current circumstance and Jesus will make himself known. That there will be a longing and thirst in the hearts of those involved that only Jesus' blood will satisfy. I know I might not be the one to sow the seed, but through prayer I can plant seeds. I can pray for harvesters that will bring Jesus' truth to those circumstances, and pray that their work is speedy.
  Beyond that I could ask God for forgiveness, for the part I played in pushing, pulling and warping my will into the lives of others. Its easy to look back and only remember the things you want to. When I look back, I forget about the wrong I did, the pain I caused, and the wall I helped build. I have to be honest and admit that I am not blameless and its only through Christ's blood and mercy that the past can be made clean. And through Him, He past is not just cleaned- but made right in due time.