now.

The present is a beautiful concept.


Since memories both positive and negative define my past, I find myself stuck in a quasi-purgatory when I reminisce – paralyzed by my inability to alter the regrets, yet brought to visible joy by relished experiences. It’s difficult to remember these different milestones objectively without adding my own bias to revise the facts of these events, so it can be a confusing process as well.


On the flipside, the future provides slightly different challenges when considered. Looking forward to the approaching months from any given point, I usually visualize myself in the present location surrounded by my four or five most trusted, but the landscape is distinctly tinged by certain colors. This last feature is predictable – when I’m unsure, things are grey; when I’m fairly clear, things are bright; when I’m excited about the coming weeks, the scene is a bit greener (green is a special color to me). These skewed perceptions of future possibilities serve naught but to impede my decision-making process.


But here I am, at the juncture between processing yesterday’s decisions and anticipating tomorrow’s. The more my regrets bog me down, the less I can see the future in white. But when I isolate myself in the glory of past victories, the ignored future fades to black. It’s a balanced process, living in the present. But without the remembrance of what’s gone before, I can’t approach the imminent with hope.


Thus the name of our movement.


We’re seeking to remember Bernadette Page, a woman who encouraged me greatly to live a holy and committed life for the Lord and those we love, in order to bring hope to people whose futures are dim. Her hope - based on the only true hope we can have in Jesus - remained steadfast throughout the course of turbulent 2009. Her example inspires me, and motivates us to pass it on.


This life is not about me.

Let’s remember hope, and live for others.