Forgetting

For a few months now, I've been posting every other Monday at this blog. I try to think of my posts ahead of time, but it doesn't always work that way. Several times I've had to write a post late on Sunday night.

This time, though, was going to be different. I was thinking about my post this past Wednesday. I had my topic and three main points. I was doing laundry at the time, so I decided to write it down later. Then came the July 4th holiday. Then a weekend trip to my hometown to visit with cousins at my late grandparents' farm. Then a day with my in-laws. And the post? Poof! Gone. Whatever feeble imprint it left on my memory vanished in the course of the busy weekend.

So first off, let's just imagine it was the greatest blog post ever written and mourn the tragedy.

Memory is a funny thing. I can remember the phone numbers for most of my childhood friends, my grandparents, and the restaurant my parents ate at most Saturday nights when I was growing up, but I can't remember my husband's work number to save my life. And this isn't so much that I've gotten older, because I've always had a tendency to remember trivial things but forget important things.

Our recurring nightmares often involve forgetting things. Many people have a variation of the "test" dream. I don't have that nightmare, probably because I had the actual experience more than once in my academic career. But when I was pregnant with our oldest child, I dreamed several times that I would forget about the baby. In the dream I was usually in the grocery store, and it would occur to me that I hadn't seen or cared for the baby in days. I would wake up each time in a terrible panic.

Once he was born, the dream proved to be ridiculous. Not only was our son quite capable of making everybody in the house aware of his presence, I was also changed. When he cried in the night, my eyes would open immediately. And though I was occasionally disoriented, and it often felt like I had just fed him a few seconds ago, I never once forgot about him.

But sadly, it is possible. This time of year we read the tragic stories of a parent who has forgotten a child. My heart breaks when I read these stories, because though it is rare, it is possible. We are human, and therefore fallible. We are capable of forgetting important things, and making horrible mistakes.

Our Heavenly Father, though, does not forget. Isaiah 49:15 takes the strongest human bond that exists--that of the mother and her nursing child--and says God's love is stronger.

He never forgets us. Even when we don't understand what he's doing, he's in control with a plan. Even when we forget him, his love for us never changes. Even when we are exhausted and aren't quite sure how we're going to get through the next week's to-do list, his love for us is perfect. Even when I woke up this morning in my parents' guest room, disoriented and groggy and not quite sure where I was, his watch and care over me never paused (Psalm 139:2).

God's care for me never ceases. If God's love for me depended on me, I would definitely mess it up. I forget blog posts and birthdays and important appointments, but he never forgets about me.