His Continual Gaze
Sometimes I have this odd, terrible fear of being forgotten. I think a lot of the time seasons of change do that to us. We are afraid that as we step into something new we will have trouble connecting and when we turn back to look at where we've come from, people will respond with a questioning look and ask, "Who are you again?"
It reminds me of the classic Christmas movie It's a Wonderful Life (I know, I'm a little out of season as we're heading into summer). In this movie, George Bailey wakes up one day as the result of a wish that he'd never been born.
Whenever he tries to talk to people, nobody recognizes him. Not his friends. Not his own family. He is simply forgotten. It makes me panic a little bit just thinking about it. Can you imagine? Everyone simply forgetting you.
I think what makes it so scary is that we all feel this way at least a little bit sometimes. A friend doesn't call or a family member hasn't checked in for awhile. People go out without us or don't look up when we pass by and say hello. Suddenly we feel just a little bit forgotten. And it hurts somewhere deep down inside of us.
We all want to be seen, known, and remembered.
None of us want to feel like George Bailey wandering around in his own isolated little world. But sometimes I do feel that way.
I was reading in the Old Testament the other day about the Israelites, and realized I could so relate to their feelings of being forgotten. Then I came to this verse, and I feel like the Lord taught me something so neat about His thoughts toward us:
"So God heard their groaning; and God remembered His covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob." (Exodus 2:24)
It's kind of funny, the choice of wording. It seems to imply that God forgot. I mean, don't you have to forget something first to suddenly remember it? Only I'm pretty sure that's not how it is with God.
I'm pretty sure He never forgets us.
And maybe it's not true that you have to forget something to remember it.
I remember that 1 + 1 = 2 , though I've never forgotten it. I remember the sky is a beautiful blue when I see it on a clear spring day, but not for one second did I fall into thinking that is was a deep purple or a bright green.
Do you know that feeling? The feeling when something was hidden deep in the back of your mind. You know it, but you aren't thinking about it. Maybe a dessert you only had when you were a child. Then something happens. A smell. A word. A picture. And then all of a sudden you remember. It jumps to the forefront of your mind. It consumes your thought for that one small, brief moment of remembering.
Maybe that is God all the time with us.
He is always in that moment of remembering. Of vivid, vibrant remembering.
Never once has He forgotten us. It's quite the opposite. He is continually remembering us.
Continually, moment-to-moment, His attention is turned toward us.
His continual gaze rests on us.
Psalm 139 says, "You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in Your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. How precious are Your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, You are still with me!" (16-18). His thoughts of us and toward us are more than the grains of sand on the beach. They can't even be numbered. No, we're not forgotten. Never forgotten.
So if you're like me and sometimes start to feel a little bit forgotten, join me in finding rest in how the Lord never forgets. We are always seen. Always known. Repeat this to yourself over and over again in the moments of loneliness, of feeling abandoned, of feeling forgotten:
Not only am I not forgotten.
I am continually, unceasingly remembered.
