20 years.
That is my best guess on the last time that I was in Birmingham.
20 years. Wow. Where does the time go?
But here I am again. My sons are involved in a speech and debate tournament in Birmingham. I am at a church facility that I visited once probably 25 years ago. It doesn't really ring any bells in my mind.
But I had some time today so I took a little trip down memory lane…or actually Hwy 280 and I-459.
It is amazing how much things have changed…and how much some things look the same. As I travel down the road, the names of the exits start coming back to my mind. I see the Galleria mall. A Chick Fil-a that I used to visit frequently. An exit that I used to take to get to school.
I went to school at Southeastern Bible College in Birmingham. Small school. Very small school. All of 150 students when I was there.
I began college as a naive 18 year old. Unfamiliar with the world. Just starting to get a handle on theology, the Bible, culture, life. It was in Birmingham that I grew up. I learned to take care of myself…500 miles from home. How to manage money. How to relate to new people. How to get around to new places. How to separate colors and wash clothes.
It was also at Southeastern that I met my wife. I fell in love with her almost the first time I saw her. I pursued her, then took her for granted and lost her, then rewon her heart. It was the classic off again, on again relationship that thankfully ended "on."
So as I look back, Birmingham really set the trajectory of my life. If I would have went to a different college in a different city, then my whole life would have taken a different route. Different wife. Different ministries. Different churches. Different cities. Different homes. Different children. Different life.
Weird.
As I went to the old campus where I graduated (the college has since moved locations), it was sort of surreal. The buildings were different but bore many of the same characteristics from the time I was there. Everything around the campus has changed. Houses have sprung up. Trees have been chopped down. Businesses have expanded. Traffic has increased.
I stood there for a moment, reflecting, remembering.
Nostalgia produces a strange mix of emotions. Wonder at the memories. Sadness at the passage of time. I wanted to return to those days, relive them, re-feel them. But they are gone. I can't recapture them. I can only remember.
Memory is such an interesting phenomenon. What is a memory? It isn't anything that science can tangibly touch or explain. It exists in my mind, above my mind. It takes me back to a reality that is passed. Back to a person that I once was, but I am no longer.
Sometimes our memories are painful and we try to squeeze them out of our minds.
Sometimes they are pleasant and we try to squeeze as much out of them as possible.
I did lots of squeezing as I left that old campus. There were synapses in my brain that starting firing off old memories that I had forgotten…but were still there…somewhere in my brain…or beyond it. My graduation ceremony. My times fellowshiping in the cafeteria. My debates with roommates. My job in the library. My fear during a tornado warning. My first kiss with my wife.
I even remembered a time when I sat wondering what life would be like 25 years down the road.
Where would life take me? Where would I end up? Who would I marry? What children would I have? Would I want the life that I had chosen? Would I even still be alive?
Many of those questions have been answered. I am further down the road. And God has been faithful.
I remember David's words in Psalm 31:15, My times are in Your hand.
Past. Present. Future. God holds it all.
I remember the past. I strain to see the future. But I must live in the present. The eternal God chooses to meet us in the "now"…and to give us memories to remind us of His faithfulness in the past and to give us promises to instill hope in us as we face the future.
I pull back onto the highway.
I glance back in my rear view mirror but keep my eyes on the road ahead.
And I give thanks that God's plan took me through Birmingham.
