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Forgotten

By Candy Simar

simar@tds.net

My husband has a terrible memory.


     He misses birthdays and dentists appointments, deadlines and due
dates. We tease him about it.  He’s usually good-natured in response.  What
else can he do?  He knows he has a problem.


      One time he forgot me at the grocery store.  He dropped me off to
buy bread and milk while he drove a block away to pick up the kids after
basketball practice.  He should have been back in ten minutes.


      After twenty minutes, I knew he had forgotten me.  Rather than
call and remind him, I decided to see how long it would take him to
remember.  I walked slowly down the aisles of the Piggly Wiggly, checking prices and
wasting time.  It had been a long day and I was tired.  My goal was to
get home and get dinner on the table.  But something stopped me.  Somehow,
I would make him realize that he needed to pay attention to what was
going on around him.  He couldn’t continue his absent-minded-professor routine
forever.  He was still in his forties, too young to claim old age as an
excuse.


     At forty-five minutes, I looked up to see him standing beside the
cart. He wore a sheepish expression.


     “You forgot me,” I said.


     “Yes,” he answered.


     He didn’t say another word all the way home.  I seethed.  Not even
an apology.


     When we got in the door, the kids were howling.


      “Dad forgot you at Piggly Wiggly,” they said.


      It seemed he was puzzled by the absence of food on the
stove—although the table was set. The phone rang for me and though he searched high
and low, he couldn’t find me.


      “Have you seen your mother?”  he asked the kids.


       Suddenly it dawned on him.  He raced back into town.  He has
never lived it down.


       As devoted as we are to those we love, we fail sometimes. 
Mothers may forget to watch their children, siblings forget to hold their
little brother’s hand while they cross a street, husbands forget their wives
in grocery stores.


       I’m glad that although people may sometimes forget, God has
promised that He will never forget me. My name is tatooed on the palms of His
hands. His thoughts toward me are greater than the grains of sand on a Florida
beach.


       Because He cares so much for us, we can freely trust Him with
all our cares and concerns.


       Why not put your trust in God today?

Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on
the child she has borne?  Though she may forget, I will not forget you! 
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before
me. Isaiah 49:15-16  NIV

Copyright Candy Simar




     

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