Memories are a strange thing, the way they come and go.
Our senses are powerful.
And the two are beautifully and intricately intertwined.
Sounds and smells can trigger memories that flood our minds with almost life-like detail as they replay in vivid color.
Have you ever heard a sound that brought a memory flooding to your mind?
Or smelled something that made you remember a moment from your childhood?
A sound that reminded you of where you grew up?
Maybe they are sounds or scents that you never previously associated with that memory. Possibly even things you didn’t even know you remembered. But they provoke this vivid imagery that makes you feel as if you were there, living that memory all over again, in full detail and color.
Or maybe they are smells and sounds that take you back to a place that you miss dearly. Or that trigger feelings of joy. Or transport you back to a season of life. Maybe it is a smell or sound that simply makes you smile as you remember.
The smell of fresh cut grass does that for me. It doesn’t happen often here in Peru as there’s not a lot of grass to cut and often it’s done by hand. But my host family has grass that grows tall in the rain and a lawn mower. I am currently sitting on my couch, eyes closed, listening. Breathing deeply that delectable scent of fresh cut grass before it fades away. Holding on to it as long as I can.
As I rest here in this moment, I am amazed at the memories this one smell and sound bring back. And the emotions. They bring comfort. Longing. It forces me to breathe deeply. Slowly. To pause. To bask in the moment. To be transported to a different place and time. To summer days sitting in my room as the hum of the mower passes my window, the familiar smell of fresh cut grass wafting through the windows with the warm, summer breeze. It is a feeling that is hard to explain. A feeling of contentment. Of joy. Of home.
There are many other sounds and smells that trigger memories, as well. Things I didn’t notice or associate with one another until I came to Peru.
I remember walking past a store and being transported back in time. I cannot explain the scent that flooded the street that day. I cannot name it or duplicate it, but it was familiar. All of the sudden I was 9 years old, in the basement of my great-grandparents house, bouncing on this little trampoline with my brother. There’s a tent with Christmas lights strung around it, homemade canned strawberries on the shelf, and my great-grandpas work bench meticulously organized. My great-grandparents are there, smiling as we fill the room with laughter. This familiar scent must be the same one that I grew accustomed to during the hours my brother and I spent at their house. And with it comes an infinite number of memories.
The finches chirping outside my window take me back to spring mornings, waking up to the sound of the exact same chirp coming through my open windows accompanied by the freshness of spring mornings and the smell of dew on the grass.
Smoke, the way it smells and even the way it burns your eyes, transports me to summer nights gathered around a bonfire with friends, eating smores, and laughing as the hours pass by.
These moments don’t last long.
The memories the bring dissipate faster than I would like them to.
But they are beautiful.
Sometimes these sounds and smells seem out of place here, 4,000 miles away from where the memories took place. But I think God places these priceless moments in my life exactly when I need them. Exactly when I need a moment of comfort. A piece of home.
Yet they also serve as a reminder that although I associate them with “home,” although they make me miss the place I call “home”, I am also reminded that this earth is not my home. My home is not Cedar Rapids, Iowa. My home is not San Ramón, Perú. Nor will it be any other place I live in this life. My home is in heaven.
I cherish these moments deeply. They don’t happen often. And I have to be watching for them. They are moments that remind me where I came from, the people who have had such a tremendous impact on my life, the moments that have made me the person I am today, and where I am going.
I am thankful that God has so beautifully intertwined these things. That He has designed our minds in a way that allows us to remember so vividly those memories that bring so much joy. That He comforts me and grants me tastes of the “home” I miss to remind me that He is God and that He cares for me more deeply that I will ever understand.
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What sounds or smells take you back to your childhood?
Are there ones that force you to breath deeply and pause as you remember?
When do these moments happen in your life?
How does God show how deeply He cares for you in the small things?
Are you watching for them? For Him? Or are we too distracted?