Remembering Little Things

Baby in Bassinette
Baby in Bassinette (Photo credit: spudnik06)

Remember when you were a baby? Certainly you do. Find someone to tell you about your babyhood. Look at old photos. You remember something.

I remember when my dad scared me— truly, I do. I was young enough to be in the bassinet, which would be three months or less. My dad had his usual summer crewcut. All his black waves were gone. It was new to me. I noticed. I screamed. It is a clear, definite impression.

I remember a game, hiding from my mother under a dinette chair, I was that young. She called, pretending she could not see me. It’s just like yesterday.

I remember clothing that the photos say I wore at age two. One favorite brown dress is so vivid—I spilled milk on it and cried. I remember this clearly.

Why do we remember certain things? The fearful happening is easy to grasp. With the instance under the chair, it was the first time I did not believe my mother. I knew she could see me; I did not know about pretending, yet. The spill on the brown dress, I remember, was a very personal loss, guilt, and regret.

My point is this: if my experiences are any indication, then very little children, contrary to professional opinion, do remember things. If my experiences are any indication, they remember trauma, disappointments, guilt, and losses. Never be tempted to think, “Oh, he’ll forget it.” He might not. What a heavy truth!

What can we do?

First, we must pray for our littlest children as if they were real people. Can you guess why?

We must pray for our tiny ones that God would take their lives into His hands and comfort them when we unknowingly fail them.

Pray that He would redeem the pain in their memories.

Pray that He would protect them from the enemy’s attacks. (My first battle with the tempter came when I was too young to reach light switches. I was an easy target.)

Ask God’s protection over their nighttimes, too.

Let them hear you praying for them. They will remember.

More tomorrow.

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