The Memories We Carry With Us

It has been a little over a year since my sister Betty passed away.

Time has a strange way of moving forward while certain memories seem to remain exactly where we left them.

I've been thinking about Betty lately, perhaps because of the book.

Writing Jonah: From Rebellion to Redemption—A Life Redirected by God required me to go back through so many parts of my life. I revisited childhood, family, growing up, adventures, mistakes, good times, difficult times, and people who helped shape the man I eventually became.

You can't go back through those years without thinking about family.

And you certainly can't go back through my childhood without thinking about my sister.

Like most brothers and sisters, our relationship wasn't always perfect. We had our disagreements. There were probably times when each of us wondered what in the world the other one was thinking.

That's family.

But beneath all of it, there was something that remained.

Love.

Through the years, through changes in our lives, through good seasons and difficult ones, she was my sister, and I was her brother.

I am especially grateful that we had that relationship all the way to the end.

As I've grown older, I've come to appreciate what a blessing that really is.

There are things we think will always be there—our parents, brothers and sisters, childhood homes, family gatherings, familiar voices. When we're young, we don't think much about how precious they are.

Then one day, they become memories.

Writing the book gave me an opportunity to visit many of those memories again.

Some made me laugh.

Some made me shake my head.

Some were painful.

And some reminded me just how blessed I have been.

I've wondered what Betty would think about the book now that it's finally out.

I think she would be pleased.

Not because every story is easy to read. She knew better than most that my life had some difficult chapters. She knew my strengths, and she certainly knew my weaknesses.

But I believe she would be pleased with what the book represents.

She would understand that this isn't a book about celebrating the past. It's about what God can do with our past.

It's about consequences, forgiveness, grace, second chances, and redemption.

And she saw some of that journey firsthand.

Looking back, I can see God's hand in my family in ways I probably didn't recognize at the time. We weren't perfect. Our relationships weren't perfect. I certainly wasn't perfect.

But the love was there.

And God was there.

Through all the twists and turns, He continued to lead the way.

One of the unexpected gifts of writing this book has been realizing how many people are woven into our individual stories. We may put one person's name on the cover, but no life story belongs to just one person.

Parents.

Brothers and sisters.

Family.

Friends.

People who loved us when we were easy to love—and sometimes when we weren't.

They all become part of who we are.

So today, I'm not thinking much about book sales, rankings, or reviews.

I'm thinking about Betty.

I'm thinking about childhood.

I'm thinking about family.

And I'm thanking God for the blessing of having people in my life who knew the whole story long before it was ever written down.

I miss my sister.

But I am grateful for the years we had, grateful for the memories we made, and especially grateful that through everything, we remained brother and sister until the end.

I think she'd be pleased with the book.

More importantly, I think she'd be pleased with the message:

No family is perfect. No life is perfect. But God's grace can find its way through all of it.

I was blessed to have my family.

I was blessed to have Betty.

And those are blessings that even time cannot take away.