I woke up the other night at 3 in the morning. To that point, my dreams had only been about the pesky moles that seem to have overtaken my back yard. I’ve declared war on the moles over the past year, and to this point they have been the victor.
My wife thinks that I have issues, but I digress.
Just before going to bed, I’d told Stephanie about my weariness. It’s been a long season professionally, personally, and spiritually. I told her that I want to trust God in his provisions for our family but the ever-present health issues, some chronic, that our family faces has led to insatiable doubts—I am like doubting Thomas. It’s not that I’ve never placed my hands on God’s side, or on his hands, but that I continue to forget what his side and hands feel like.
Remembering is a choice.
Forget. It’s a word that speaks to cognition. To our ability to think, prospect, and understand. Forgetting really only happens in our head. It doesn’t happen in our hearts or our body. If you’ve ever played a sport, you can understand that memory is part of our body. When swinging a golf club, the muscles memorize the routine and act accordingly. Our body understands and knows that it has been there before, and it reacts to how we have trained it to react. This is why golf, tennis etc. lessons are so difficult. Changing the pattern of our reactive patterns is really difficult.
I could continue to speak to the reactive nature of our lives, but that’s not woke me up the other night. I was jarred awake because I needed to hear something very important—that my remembering is a choice that I make on a daily basis. In regards to provisions for my family, I choose to worry and fret about where and how much money is going to be available for us. I choose to only look into the future, and refuse to look to the past where there has been enough.
Not an abundance but enough. I imagine this is my chief complaint about the past (which is really my sadness veiled in cynicism): God does not give me enough to ensure tomorrow is safe. He gives me enough for today. Which means that today is taken care of. All I have to do is remember that yesterday God did the same thing. I’m not only speaking about money or food, I’m referring to God’s provision of his grace, mercy, and continual offer of delight in me, his child.
The other message I heard at 3 that morning was that God gave his people, the exiled Israelites, enough for one day. Not one day plus, or two, but for one day. It’s comforting to know that they forgot, too. Even more comforting to know that their forgetting had absolutely zero effect on the mana showing up tomorrow.
This is the beauty of this human journey: Our humanness does not change God’s divinity.
To forget is to be human.
Looking at it this way reminds me of an exchange between two characters in a book I read a few years ago, A Shifting Affliction. The Author’s therapist told her that she could call him at any time, day or night. The first time she called him in the middle of the night, she apologized for interrupting his sleep. He calmly responded that being woken up gives him the gift of falling asleep again.
Similarly, forgetting affords us the ability to remember again. When we remember, we get to exhale and rest all over again.
For you and your relationship, whether you’re married or not, remembering offers you the opportunity to revisit the forgotten. Sometimes this will be a joyous occasion as you laugh and cry about those sweet moments together. Other times, you’ll be faced with remembering difficulties and times of conflict.
Remember this:
God is present and enough for you in the glory and depravity of you and your relationship. You have to be present to see him.
