The following is an article by my favorite preacher and writer . . . and I've been married to him for thirty-seven years!
We are forgettable. The enemy of our souls accuses us, and the fast-moving world sees us as a number. Our own failures make us feel we are someone who is not worth remembering. These feelings overwhelm us, and at times, it is all we can see. Just when we think we’ve made a fairly decent step, a temptation comes and we fall flat—stumbling over our clay feet. And we wonder if we will ever amount to anything.
That is why such a God-inspired phrase is so encouraging: “God remembered Noah . . . and made a wind blow over the earth.” Not only was His attention lasered in on this solitary figure, but He moved heaven and earth on His behalf. He cared so much for this one man and his family that the entire world was changed to meet his needs. And, as the singular man through whom physical salvation came for our whole race, it means that we were on God’s mind too. God remembers us.
When any halfway humble woman looks at the disparity between herself and the Creator, the reasonable assumption is that God couldn’t care less. But that is wrong. He knows us by name. In fact, He goes to great lengths to continually remind us of His personal attention.
I will remember my covenant that is between me and you . . . (Genesis 9:29)”
“Then God remembered Rachel, and God listened to her and opened her womb (Genesis 30:22).
God is personal. He is not encumbered by sin and its worst traits. Our pride causes us to callously forget others. Our selfishness fills our eyes so much that we become oblivious to the glaring needs of hurting people around us. Not so with God. He is so conscious that one hurting lady can reach out and grab his robe in a jostling crowd, and he knows and turns to look into her eyes and heal.
He is watching what you do even in the quiet, humble recesses of your heart, and your Father who “sees in secret will reward you” for simple acts of prayer and fasting (Matthew 6). He has numbered every hair on your head (Matthew 10:30). He has promised to counsel you with His “eye upon you” (Psalm 32:8).
Paul became so overwhelmed with God’s attention that he was convinced that nothing would ever separate him from God’s love (Romans 8). David, the shepherd king, felt it, even in the midst of a universe that seemed so big that it makes us feel our insignificance at times.
When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him? Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor. You have given him dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under his feet . . . (Psalm 8:3-6 ESV)
It’s nice to be remembered. A card on a special day, a look from a knowing friend, a new acquaintance that thinks enough about you to call you by name. What does this personal attention—this remembrance—from the God of the universe mean?
It means that when everyone on earth forgets me, I know that the One who matters has not. It means that He sees everything—the good and bad—and still loves me and does not give up on my development. It means that I have a personal path to His presence that cannot be taken away—that I have 24/7 access to His throne to receive “mercy and grace” in every moment of my need (Hebrews 4:16). It means I am loved perfectly and individually and “perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18). It means that in the midst of all of my sin, God remembers me and will move all of earth to come to my aid. It means I am loved . . . forever.
My mother had a way to make every one of her children feel that she loved them best. I never knew how she did that until I had children. It’s easy, because you do love each one the most. And that capacity comes from our Father in whose image we’re made.