I’d really rather not.
I was a sophomore or junior. Not sure which. I had a steady boyfriend. I wore his class ring wrapped with angora or mohair yarn, often rewrapped to match my clothing.
We went to a party. I don’t remember it. I drank vodka. Straight, I think. I don’t remember.
He took me to a friend’s house where a girlfriend tried to sober me up. I don’t remember.
I don’t remember coming home. It wouldn’t have been late because my curfew coincided with my grade in school. I faintly remember walking past my mom. I don’t remember going to bed.
I panicked the next morning when I felt my naked finger. I ripped the covers off the bed. Searched under the pillows and on the floor. I called his sister and asked if we had broken up. She didn’t know.
So I prayed. I bargained. “Please God. If you help me find this ring, I will never do anything like this again. I promise!”
I ran out to the driveway. There lay the ring at my feet. How did it get there? I don’t remember. But I believe God directed me straight to it.
It happened again a few years later, though. Another boyfriend. The one I “Dear John’d” when I met Dennis.
We were at his parents’ house. I think it was tequila this time. I remember being in the bathroom with his sister, washing my left ring finger and crying about a ring that I never had. I don’t remember.
That was the last time. Thank goodness.
Stuff I’d rather not remember. Stuff He brings to my remembrance to remind me that:
- When I fail Him, He never fails me.
- When I fall down, He picks me up.
- When I am a promisebreaker, He is a promisekeeper.
Sins forgiven and forgotten.
What do you remember that you’d rather forget?
“Remember not the sins of my youth and my rebellious ways; according to your love remember me, for you are good, O LORD.” ~Psalm 25:7
Copyright © 2009 by Sandra Heska King