As much as I want to remember, I do not always remember. I wish I could say that my desire and forgetfulness was merely an addition with the passing of time. Unfortunately, the problem has been with me as long as I can remember. I need reminders. Everything helps, even the annoying post-it notes. Calendar settings on my notebook and in my PDA just begin to tell a story. Reminders scribbled on scraps of paper, requests left with friends asking them to remember for me, and even the occasionally metaphorical string tied around a finger are my aids. Yet, I still forget.
I imagine I am not the only one. As many on the subway car watched, the frantic search though a purse, handbag, and briefcase told a story of something long forgotten and now lost. Without a word, the quiet, increasingly frantic movements screamed for anyone willing to listen. The increasingly bewildered look told us what we reluctantly already knew. Wherever the item was, her memory has gone on holiday. Life would need to continue without its presence.
I found myself caught in a timeless reflection; walking the same path, playing out the same role in different times and places. Though the colors and textures were and are different, they were at the core the same. I do not always hold on to the principles and values I treasure. I do not always remember those who have been with me in the past. I do not always recognize those who are with me know. The gaps are enormous; friends slip by, I ignore God.
God’s quiet reminder remains; “From the very beginning telling you what the ending will be, all along letting you in on what is going to happen, assuring you, ‘I'm in this for the long haul, I'll do exactly what I set out to do.’” (Isaiah 46.10)
Today has dawned, fresh and full of hope. I have a new opportunity live. I walk with hope because of the way God and others, including you, have been with me. Thanks for the reminders.
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