Impressions

An impression conveys an idea or notion about someone or something. On my walk at the park, there is a section of the sidewalk with impressions of fallen pine needles. It’s obviously a permanent and unchangeable bunch of impressions since, you know, concrete.

It’s also a reminder of a time when this particular park had pine trees. It doesn’t any more, just deciduous trees. But the evidence of past evergreens is captured in the concrete.

I’m fairly certain these impressions were unintentional, especially given it’s a public park and they almost never have artists install their concrete.

How often are impressions unintentional, reminders, and permanent. It’s very easy to get an impression about someone or something that wasn’t intended, and very difficult to change it. Impressions can be nostalgic reminders of joy, or hidden tender places that grieve us.

The pine needle impression in the concrete is quite accurate long after it was formed. When you think about someone or someplace, what’s your impression, and WHY was it formed and held the way it is? Do you need to reconsider? Do you need to jackhammer out the old and update?

Think especially about your impression of God. Where did it come from? Did it come from your relationship with God or did it come from your interaction with someone who claimed to worship Him?

Ponder.