On this day in mid-January, mired with projects for work, the beginning of a new semester and no small sense of ennui, my memories sift to reveal one nearly perfect day in Copenhagen (side note to Steve: this is not to imply that the days once you arrived were not as good!) Arriving from sunny, yet hectic, Italy the brisk cold of Scandinavia awakened in me a curiosity and willingness to explore.
That day I walked miles along the river, taking photographs of the light dancing on the water, leaning over bridges and sitting under trees. The hours slipped away without seeing nary a museum or monument, but rather reflecting on my life, as well as universals, to the background music of a foreign land. I did not make any life changing decisions or discoveries that day, but the memory stands as a crystal-clear photograph in my mind as a day of peace of mind and heart.
Today, when the reality of daily labor seems much more present to me than theology, I see a glimpse of God in my memory. Augustine, in his Confessions, suggests that God's presence can be found in this slippery creature of remembrance. The memory serves as more than a catch all for learned skills and dates from one's life, but also as a apparatus for compiling an image of God's potency in our lives.
As I recall that day in Copenhagen, I see not only the trees, the water and the brightly colored building, but also a sense of God's hand in my life, working in my experiences and my thoughts that is much clearer to me now than it was on that hazy day. Suddenly, the work of day seems to be more than a list of tasks that I must plunge through, but a memory in the making that I will return to, noting God's presence and providence in my work this day.