Scripture Memory

My friends think I’m ADD.

Honestly, I can see it. My brain is constantly going, and if I’m not moving around it speeds up. I do everything fast- Whether it be that late night last minute paper or an exam that was supposed to take four times longer than the time it took me (yes, I probably flunked it today, but that’s beside the point.)

It’s kinda nice, actually. I finish my homework really fast (kinda scares me honestly, because I always think I’m doing something wrong), and the quick pace of rush hour at the coffeeshop (yeah, I work at a coffeeshop and yes, it’s epic) is kind of my thing.

But. . . it’s also a bad thing. Because my brain is going so fast it can go from super happy about fluffy clouds in the distance, to super depressed because the barista didn’t put whip cream in my hot chocolate.

I also have a slightly ridiculous memory. I can remember things in sharp detail. . . however, this never seems to be the case for memorising study guide questions. . . weird.

This memory can get me into trouble though.

When I get bored, I tend to find something in my memory (subconsciously), and my supposedly ADD brain takes it and runs with it, dragging me in the mud (rude, I know.)

I’m not saying I’m ADD. Pretty sure my parents don’t think I am. My friends still do, though, poor souls. They gotta put up with me.

And my tangents

(*whispers* sine over cosine)

(*whispers* x cubed graph)

(*whispers* Rubik’s cube)

*coughs*

Where was I? Oh yes. ADD. That.

So here’s the deal. I can dwell on things like how I accidentally put normal milk in someone’s latte and how they’re probably halfway home and having to call a friend because they’re lactose intolerant and are now stranded on a sidewalk with no energy to move-

The whole scenario is just messy, and I won’t benefit from thinking about it.

Likewise, it’s easy for my mind to go to other dark or bad places if I don’t keep a close eye on it (although, I must say- My eye is pretty close to the brain *cackles*.)

Recently, at a retreat I went to, I heard someone talk about Scripture Memory. Yeah, I’d heard him talk about it a lot, and yes, I’d heard this particular speech given several times. But for some reason or another, it actually stuck (I know, shocking), and I decided to do something about it.

Like I said, memorising for me isn’t that hard (thankfully). What’s hard to actually setting aside time to intentionally do it. And y’know. Practice.

So I decided that I would start to take my verse pack* to work.

This coincided very nicely with a week where I was mostly working by myself. Let me just say- Pacing back and forth while reciting verses out loud through a mask is a STRUGGLE, and if you have asthma I would not suggest it. But y’know, you gotta push through, so somehow I kept going.

Scripture memory used to be a big deal in my life. My mother used to have our family memorise different verses or passages or passages a lot, and we’d review together and work on new ones.

But then when we got older, my parents kind of stopped enforcing it- Wanting us to figure it out for ourselves. And I’m ashamed to say that Scripture memory hasn’t been as high a priority to me as it should be.

ANYWHO THAT WAS A TANGENT

*coughs* I won’t follow that with the train of thought I’m thinking.

Memorising scripture has been ridiculously beneficial in ways I hadn’t predicted. I started with verses I’d already memorised in NIV and tried to work on getting them down in ESV. So most of the verses weren’t necessarily new, though I tried to through in a couple ones that had hit me in quiet times.

I thought I’d just work on them behind the coffeebar, and that would be that.

But oh.

God is so much bigger than that, y’all. You can’t confine Him or His Word to a small area or a time slot.

I’ve found myself being constantly reminded of the verses throughout my day. I’m hiding it in my heart, not just so I can combat sin, but also so I can meditate on them day and night.

I really do think Scripture memory can change your life if you just give it a shot and do it on your own accord.

Because let’s be honest.

If someone else has you do it, you’re doing it for them- Not you. You gotta do it yourself. You gotta make the decision.

Like I said, I’m not perfect. I don’t know if I’ll be able to last long, but I sure am going to try because it’s worth it. I’ve been able to meditate without trying, because now my ADD brain just constantly runs the verses through my brain trying to dissect them.

It’s pretty rad.

[* a verse pack is about half the size of a normal folding wallet. It has four sleeves that hold custom made cards that are slightly smaller than average business cards. Usually people write their verses on these cards as an easy way to work on Scripture Memory. Let me know if you want a more in-depth explanation/description of this! I don’t want to turn this blog into a Christian lifestyle, or just any lifestyle kind of blog though, so I won’t fill it with a lot of Christian walk tips and such]

Judge? Everyone Does It.

A man went to the village.

He was an evangelist, going to visit a UPG (unreached people group) in the outskirts of a third world country. He’d come alone as an outsider to the UPGs, but not to the country.

Growing up in the country, he’d first learned about Jesus and salvation via a small radio in his hometown. Once he became a Christian, he would stop at nothing to spread the good news farther. He worked hard and eventually graduated from a seminary and instantly moved back to his country to share his beloved faith with people who hadn’t heard. . .yet.

Coming into the village early in the afternoon, he was greeted by the village leader. Unfortunately, a scowl, not a smile, met him.

“We do not want your kind here,” the leader growled at the evangelist.

Surprised and taken aback, the evangelist asked simply- “I’m sorry?”

“We know your kind. You are a Christian, yes?”

The eager evangelist nodded in confusion.

“Another man who claimed to be a Christian came to us a year ago,” the leader explained warily. “He taught us about love and Jesus.”

The evangelist nodded again, this time excited that his faith had preceded him.

“But then he lied to us. He cheated us. He stole from us,” the leader’s eyes narrowed. “He told us how to act, in love and kindness, but he did not do the same.”

The evangelist’s face fell at an all too familiar story of a hypocrite.

“We do not want anything to do with your kind,” the leader finished firmly.

The evangelist nodded slowly. “Very well then,” he sighed. “I will not bother you by even staying the night.”

The leader looked confused but didn’t argue.

“But please, as I am going on to the other villages, might I take a chicken with me?” The evangelist pointed time the many little creatures that were scurrying around as the men talked. “The other villages have never grown chickens before and have never seen them. I would like to show them what chickens are. I would be willing to buy one from you.”

The leader’s expression went from suspicious to proud. “Of course!” He beamed proudly. “You may even take one for free,” he spread out his hand to the large flock.

The evangelist smiled and went through the chickens as the leader and the villagers watched. He picked through them meticulously, until he’d picked the perfect chicken.

“Aha!” He nodded firmly. “Thank you, leader, for your generosity. I shall be on my way now.”

“Wait!” The leader stopped him. “Why must you choose that one?”

The chicken that the evangelist had chosen was small. Small, sickly, and barely alive. It peered at the world through its beady little eyes.

“Because,” the evangelist explained. “I want to get a chicken to show everyone else. Perhaps they will even be willing to trade for more when they see this one.”

The leader shook his head aghast. To have all the surrounding villages see this sickly chicken and think it represented all of their chickens? The horror.

“No, please take a healthier one! A bigger one, a cleaner one, a pretty one!” The leader urged. “The one ill chicken does not represent all the chickens we have!”

The evangelist tilted his head and set down the chicken. “And so the one unhealthy Christian does not represent all of Christians not all of Christianity.”

My father used to tell that story a lot. I thought about it the other day when someone mentioned how easily it is for people in general to be judgemental.

I think people forget that everyone is different, and that everyone is subjective. Christians are human too.

When one becomes a Christian, there’s not some supernatural transformation that leaves us being perfect angels (don’t we wish though *laughs*). Becoming a Christian doesn’t make us “good” or any better than anyone else. It just means we’ve dedicated ourself to Christ and to striving to be more like Him.

So just like Christians oughtn’t judge others, Christians oughtn’t be judged themselves. We’re not perfect. We’ll never be perfect.

All we can do is try to be more like Christ-

Who is perfect.