God Remembers

Sometimes you just want someone to remember. 

Someone besides you. 

For those who have lost somebody they love, loss becomes a forever journey of trying to find comfort in memories while at the same time enduring the painful reality that memories are all they have. That the one now gone isn't ever coming back to make more. And the tension between the two sometimes can rip a heart in two. 

It's the special days that are the hardest. And with every year, those dates so meaningful come and go and, as time goes on, you feel more and more left to pass them alone. What you used to remember and celebrate together is now only remembered and celebrated in lonely solidarity. The dates mean nothing to the rest of the world. But sometimes you really wish they would. 

Sometimes you feel like everyone else has forgotten. 

Forgotten your grief. 

Forgotten your loved one. 

Forgotten you. 

And, in those moments of silent recollection, you miss the one you lost even more. Because they would've remembered with you. 

There's nothing like feeling that you aren't seen, aren't heard, in your heartache. That the world has passed on by you like those in the Bible story of the Good Samaritan who leave you bleeding in heart on the side of the road and seem to not notice that you still hurt. You still mourn. And you long for somebody to just stop long enough to pour salve into your soul and give you the love you so deeply need. 

Sometimes you wish that birthday, that holiday, that date on the calendar that meant so much to you and the one you lost - you wish someone would know you enough to realize that those dates are still hard. Would care enough to text you or call and just ask if you're doing okay. I know how that feels because I've been there. Quite recently, in fact. 

It's been over a year since I lost my Alex. Except for the close friends, most have moved on and probably think I have, too. But truth is, it's still hard. I'm still learning how to move forward again and to dream again and live again when everything in my world went dark with that news. Our friendship was built around remembrance. We became close because we'd lost. Three tours of duty in the Middle East meant, for him, that goodbyes were an all-too-familiar occurrence. Some of those goodbyes were people from my community - people whose stories I came to know through him and others I knew that served with the now-fallen. Every year, he and I called each other on certain dates to talk about those who were no longer with us. To remember their lives. To promise each other they wouldn't be forgotten. But now that Alex is gone, too, I find it hard to know what to do on these days. When all I wish is that I could hear his voice again or hold him in my arms again. When all I'd love to do is trade stories like we always did. Talk of Grant's impromptu Shakespeare recitations or of Christopher's undying love for family or of Mike's passion for helping young people turn their lives around. When all I want is to go back, I'm met with the sobering reality that, except for a few fellow Marines who were there and the few families related to the fallen, nobody is remembering at that moment except me. It's a lonely realization. 

Up to this point, my close friends have been wonderful about calling or checking in around these times. They've tried their best to remember. But this time, everyone happened to be busy on the same week and, for the first time in this journey, I truly felt what it was like to feel as if nobody cared anymore. I spent the evening of August 3rd, sobbing in the bathroom and just wishing I could have my Alex back. Wishing I could thank Grant and Mike for bringing Alex and I together through their deaths. Wishing this all didn't still hurt so badly even after all this time. 

How quickly we can forget the hurting! How quickly we can forget that somebody we love isn't having the best day! 

Perhaps your struggle isn't grief. Maybe it's an unexpected diagnosis. Or even a seasonal bout with depression. Whatever your situation, I'm sure you've had your share of moments when it felt like no one was listening. When it felt like nobody cared anymore. Nobody saw you. Heard you. Loved you. 

To my mind now come three words that just might offer us hope in our loneliness. Three words scattered all throughout Scripture that remind us that we're never as alone as we think we are. 

But. God. Remembered...

"God remembered Noah" (Gen. 8:1); "God remembered Abraham" (Gen. 19:29); "God remembered Rachel" (Gen. 30:22); "And the Lord remembered [Hannah]" (1 Sam. 1:19). So many instances throughout the Bible it is emphasized that God remembers. When the cupbearer forgot Joseph in prison, God did not. When Hagar and Ishmael found themselves in the desert having left Abraham's camp, God remembered them and sent a well of water. In every instance, when somebody felt most forsaken, God reminded them that He still saw them. Heard them. Loved them. 

God remembers. 

Remembers you. 

Remembers me.

Somehow, this simple statement brings me courage. Soothes my heart. Comforts my grief. When I feel most alone, that is when God is most near. I may not feel Him there or see Him clearly. But the fact that He sees, hears, knows, cares for, and loves me is enough. When others may have put my sorrow out of mind or moved on, God is still providing for, sustaining, and strengthening me. Unlike fallible human minds that easily forget, God never forgets. 

These are hard times for us all. Many of us are struggling to have patience with an on-going pandemic, political division, social upheaval, and lots of uncertainty. All this added to whatever personal problems we're all facing, as well. And yet, in the midst of everything going on, God remembers. We are not forgotten. We are never alone. 

God is holding us in this moment, however painful, and He'll never let go. 

The fact that His eyes sees us and His ear is open to our cry...that God continues to hold us in remembrance and utmost love and precious, merciful care is really all we need. As hard as it is to feel forsaken and abandoned by those around us, there is always One whom we can count on never to turn His back on His children. 

So take heart, friend. God remembers you. 

And somewhere along a clear, blue lake with mountains all around, I feel remembered, too.