LIGHT THE WAY

Sometimes God brings an old memory back into our lives, not so we can relive the past, but so we can recognize His faithfulness in shaping who we have become.

I used to pride myself on having a great memory.

If someone asked me about my childhood, I could tell story after story. I thought I remembered everything that mattered.

Then life happened.

After walking through one of the most difficult seasons of my life, I found myself drawing closer to God more than ever before. As my relationship with Him grew, I noticed something unexpected.

Memories I hadn't thought about in years began finding their way back to me.

Not because I was searching for them.

They simply began appearing at just the right time.

One of those memories came rushing back the day I came across The Silver Brumby.

In an instant, I wasn't an adult anymore.

I was a little girl walking through the aisles of the video store with my grandma. Every time she let me choose a movie, I picked the same one.

Out of hundreds of movies, I always chose The Silver Brumby.

As a child, I never wondered why.

I simply knew how it made me feel.

I loved Thowra.

His courage.

His freedom.

His resilience.

His character.

Back then, I didn't have the words to explain why those qualities mattered so much to me.

Now I do.

I decided to watch the movie again.

Part of me wondered if it would feel the same after all these years.

It did.

I smiled at the same moments.

I still admired Thowra's courage.

His determination.

His freedom.

His unwavering character.

Then I laughed.

Russell Crowe appeared on the screen.

I had completely forgotten he was in the movie.

Looking back, it made perfect sense. As a little girl, I didn't remember the actor. I only remembered the man chasing my favorite character.

Even then, my heart knew exactly who it was paying attention to.

That simple moment reminded me of something much bigger.

Life had changed.

I had changed.

Yet the qualities that first captured my heart had not.

It wasn't nostalgia.

It was recognition.

I realized those qualities still inspire me today.

As I watched the movie again, I realized I wasn't simply reconnecting with a childhood memory.

I was reconnecting with the qualities that first inspired me.

As a little girl, I didn't have the words to explain why I admired Thowra.

As an adult, I do.

He represented courage in the face of uncertainty.

Freedom that wasn't about doing whatever he wanted, but about remaining true to who he was.

Perseverance through challenge.

Strength rooted in character.

Spiritually, those qualities remind me of the life God calls each of us to live.

Not a life controlled by fear.

Not a life defined by the expectations of others.

A life rooted in truth.

Guided by courage.

Lived with integrity.

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free." — Galatians 5:1

That freedom isn't permission to live without purpose.

It is the freedom to become the person God created us to be.

When I think about Thowra now, I don't just remember a beautiful horse running through the mountains.

I remember a reminder that the greatest journey isn't escaping the world around us.

It's remaining faithful to who God created us to be as we walk through it.

The more I reflected on those memories, the more I wondered if God leaves little clues throughout our lives.

Children simply love what they love.

They admire courage.

They celebrate kindness.

They find adventure in ordinary places.

Looking back, I don't think I loved The Silver Brumby simply because it was about a horse, although I certainly had quite an obsession with horses at the time.

I loved what Thowra represented.

Freedom.

Integrity.

Perseverance.

Hope.

"For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." — Ephesians 2:10

Perhaps the things that consistently inspire us are not random.

Perhaps they are glimpses of the unique way God created each of us.

Perhaps the stories that stay with us reveal the kind of people He has been shaping us to become all along.

As adults, life becomes full.

Responsibilities grow.

Schedules fill.

Somewhere along the way, we stop making room for wonder.

Yet Jesus said,

"Let the little children come to Me... for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." — Matthew 19:14

I don't believe Jesus was asking us to become childish.

I believe He was inviting us to hold on to the childlike qualities that draw us closer to God.

Wonder.

Trust.

Joy.

Curiosity.

The courage to believe that goodness still matters.

Growing older should deepen those qualities, not replace them.

As I thought about that little girl walking through the video store with my grandma, I smiled.

Not because I remembered a movie.

Because I remembered the person I was.

Then a simple thought came to me.

I became the person I always hoped I would be.

Not because life has been perfect.

It hasn't.

There have been heartbreaks, disappointments, unexpected blessings, and seasons that stretched my faith.

Yet through every season, God has continued shaping my heart.

The little girl who admired courage still values courage.

The little girl who loved freedom still believes people were created to live with hope.

The little girl who admired character still believes integrity matters.

She never disappeared.

She simply grew.

"Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." — Philippians 1:6

My grandma probably never imagined that letting me rent the same movie over and over would become one of the memories I treasure most.

She wasn't trying to teach me a lesson.

She was simply making room for joy.

What a beautiful gift.

How often do we have the opportunity to do the same?

Read the story one more time.

Take the walk.

Watch the old movie.

Listen to someone's dream.

Celebrate their character.

Encourage what makes them come alive.

"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up." — 1 Thessalonians 5:11

The moments that seem ordinary today may become the memories that shape someone's heart tomorrow.

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for the beautiful ways You remind us of Your faithfulness. Thank You for the memories that reconnect us with joy, wonder, and the qualities You planted in our hearts long before we understood them.

Thank You for creating each of us with unique gifts and a purpose that began long before we recognized it ourselves.

Help me hold on to the childlike faith that delights in Your creation, trusts Your promises, and finds beauty in ordinary moments.

Continue shaping me into the person You created me to be. Let my life reflect courage, compassion, integrity, joy, and hope.

Help me create spaces where others feel safe to dream, to grow, and to become who You created them to be. May my words encourage, my actions inspire, and my life reflect Your love.

Thank You for never giving up on the good work You began in me.

In Jesus'name,

Amen.

As I finished watching The Silver Brumby, I realized God had given me much more than a trip down memory lane.

He had reminded me of His faithfulness.

The qualities that first stirred my heart as a little girl are the same qualities He has continued to strengthen throughout my life.

That realization filled me with gratitude.

I hope this week you'll make time to notice what makes your heart come alive.

Maybe it's an old movie.

Maybe it's a familiar song.

Maybe it's a place, a conversation, or a memory you haven't thought about in years.

Don't rush past those moments.

Thank God for them.

They may be gentle reminders of the person He has been shaping all along.

And if you have the opportunity, become that kind of memory for someone else.

Read one more story.

Take one more walk.

Listen a little longer.

Encourage someone a little more.

You never know how one ordinary moment, one shared tradition, or one simple act of love might stay with someone for the rest of their life.

Just as my grandma unknowingly gave me a memory that God would use years later, we have the opportunity to plant those same kinds of moments in the lives of the people around us.

What a beautiful legacy that would be.

In Solidarity,

Lyndsay LaBrier
Merchant Ship Collective