Ghosts from the Past

 

The ancient projector whirred into life. Don threaded the film onto the empty spool and started it ratcheting its way through the machine. White screen soon gave way to an amazing blast from the past.

The film was one my dad took. 1960. My hair was still in ringlets or a pony tail. Still naturally dark brown. At one point, there was my nine-year-old self playing with paper dolls (remember those?) with my big sister Judy. Sweet memories of carefree hours.

The film included a compilation of events during that year. Christmas dinner with Dad’s side of the family. So many no longer with us. A silent film, we could imagine the banter, hear the laughter. Both my Grandma and Grandpa were there, and Aunt Norma, Uncle Gordie and Aunt June, and all six of their children, one still in a high chair. Six of them have gone before us. There was Dad, capering, and Mom, looking like a film star with her striking dress and scarf. Judy and I, giggling with our cousins, just before the slide into awkward tweenager years. Now only Mom and me left.

The film segued into New Year’s Day, gathered with Mom’s side of the family, Aunt Wynne, Uncle Nobby, and their three boys. Three have preceded us into the Lord’s presence.

I smiled through the tears. In every tear there is a rainbow. Happy memories of times long gone. People we can no longer see. Places we can no longer go.

Beside the bereaved Martha and Mary, Jesus wept. But then he revealed his power over sin and death, raised Lazarus, and continued his ministry.

So this day, may I be inspired by the lives of loved ones now gone, and move on in my calling to follow Jesus. May he strengthen my weak knees and help me to reveal his image today.

‘Since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.’