The gifts of nostalgia

Anniversaries have a way of shifting our perspective. They invite us to slow down and remember the road behind us, noticing what has changed and what has stayed the same. With Christian Courier marking its 80th year, I’ve been reflecting on nostalgia and memory: how the past shapes who we are today, and how God’s unchanging presence runs like a thread through it all.

Over the last few years, I’ve been involved with ReBoot, a re-entry retreat for young adult missionaries’ kids adjusting to life in Canada. As I talk with these “MKs” about their multi-cultural experiences, the past often comes alive in my own memories of growing up in France and Senegal. I’ve seen how important it is not just to look ahead but also to look back.

We can’t fully step into what’s next without naming what we’ve lost. If we bury it completely, we lose the chance to carry forward the good gifts it offered. But if we grip the past too tightly, we risk bitterness toward the present. The challenge is finding a balance, one that respects where we’ve been while still opening space for what God is doing now.

Rekindling the good

One way I’ve learned to hold the past well is by rekindling little joys from it. For me, that might look like cooking a meal I grew up with, speaking another language, or watching a film that transports me back to a familiar place (shoutout to the Toronto International Film Festival). These small practices don’t erase the ache of change, but they become gentle reminders that our lives are made up of many layers and the past doesn’t have to be locked away. Pieces of the past can still nourish life here and now.

Last summer, I returned to homes and places in France I hadn’t been to in seven years. Being immersed in familiar sights, sounds and smells was surreal. Some things had changed beyond recognition. Others felt frozen in time. The old meeting the new. That paradox, of change and constancy at once, mirrors so much of life.

I notice it too when I flip through old journals. I laugh at fears that once consumed me, things I thought would undo me that seem trivial now. And yet, in the same pages, I find prayers that feel timeless: longings for God’s presence, repeated confessions and unanswered questions. Some things shift; others remain.

Training our hearts

And in the middle of it all, God does not change. Hebrews 13:8 says it clearly: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” That steadiness comforts me, especially when my life feels chaotic. Looking back, I see God’s faithfulness. And looking forward, I hold onto the promise: “My future is in your hands” (Ps. 31:15).

Remembering the past isn’t about retreating into it. It’s about honouring what was, carrying forward what is life-giving and trusting God with the rest. Perhaps an anniversary can become a chance to pause, remember and give thanks. These aren’t just nostalgic exercises – they’re ways of training our hearts to notice God’s presence, to honour what was and to trust what is yet to come.