This passage in Isaiah is expressing the anguish and frustration toward God by the Israelites, as they fear He has forsaken them. The passage is both in the present and prophetic for the future. Some points these verses may address are the agony of being captives of Babylon, the long awaiting for the Messiah, and meaningful for both the past and present Church when evil seems to triumph in a community of faith. In other words, the passage is applicable to the people of God in all times of difficulty and distress. I think we are in times of distress. Sometimes I feel we have become captives from the pandemic; it has stolen lives, our health, and precious moments with loved ones. I lament when I see our sanctuary at church not filled as it once was, and remember when our pastors would remind us to slide together so more people could fit into a pew. Live Stream is a wonderful tool and it kept us connected while we had to be separated; however, I need to see my new friends. I need to hug them and laugh and cry with them. My sisters and brothers in faith help to lift me up and give me the courage and strength to “run the race”, the metaphor that apostle Paul used. My heart is crying out to God, “Please do not forget us”, and I am crying out to our beloved congregation “Please do not forget each other” even though God is at our side. God alone can redeem us and show us mercy in these times of illness and world conflict. I want to see the sanctuary filled to overflowing. I want the Elizabethtown Church of the Brethren who is known for being a bright beacon of light, faith, hope, and action, to become an even brighter beacon of light in our community. We cannot lose heart when there is so much that depends on it. As Pastor Jason said in a Sunday School prayer, “ I look for the light that the darkness has not overcome.”
I enjoy creating things out of different textiles. I am intimately acquainted with the items I create, every stitch, cut of fabric, and shape is well thought out and assembled. I have a fondness for my creation, whether it becomes a treasured heirloom, or is worthless in the eyes of most. It is valuable to me, the creator. How much greater is the love of God for his creation ( humankind and the universe ), because He knows me intimately; because He has made me He remembers me and knows my voice.
We have a friend in Haiti who told us when we were leaving “ Please do not forget us”. Our presence in Haiti does not give them immediate relief from poverty, but our presence offers them hope. God gives me hope because of His presence and I am assured that because He created me, he remembers me and will never forget who I am; I am always on His mind. God has a tender affection for His Church and people; He does not want His people to be discouraged or feel forgotten. My husband Paul and I have five children and seven grandchildren. They are central in our lives; the love we have for them is indescribable. I often tell my young grandchildren, “I love you this much”, with my arms spread opened wide. God’s compassion and love for us is greater than parents’ love for their children; we are a mark on His hand, a seal upon His arm, symbolizing His attentiveness and consciousness towards us. I do not need a password; He created me, He remembers me, and will never forget me or my name. I would do well to keep that thought in the forefront, that God knows me and therefore understands my needs and concerns. We serve a loving God who will always have His arms opened wide to welcome us.
I think another element of not forgetting someone is really knowing them. It can be easy to forget someone who is just an acquaintance, and much harder to forget someone you have invested time into getting to know. I think, in a way, that's what we all want. To be truly known - our goodness, our faults, our identifies, our values, etc. And then, in addition to being known, to be loved because of who we are, despite who we are, just because we are God's child. When you take the time, as God does, to really know someone - there's no way you can forget them!
Gina, I think I can relate to your feelings of sentimental attachment and the difficulty of letting go of things of the past. Paul and I moved two years ago with 43 years in our other home. We raised our five children in that home and the children carry many memories too. It was hard and we sold the house and the things we were giving up on public sale, very scary! The good news is that we love our new home and it feels good to have a clean slate so to speak, no clutter and the attic is fairly empty too. We only moved across the road to land that we already owned for years and built a new home. I did not have to adjust to a new area or make new friends and neighbors. I am hoping you can adjust and love your new place of residence. Will you still be attending Elizabethtown CoB? I am hoping I will see you at choir someday! Blessings to you.
Sandy, I really appreciate the image your words painted for me. I picture God with His arms outstretched to gather me in. He remembers me--and I don't need a password!
My husband and I are getting ready to move. At our stage of life, it means a lot of downsizing. We've never had a garage sale, I've never sold stuff on Ebay - after 54 years of life together, 37 in this house, there's a lot to get rid of. It's hard - lots of choices to make and things to say good-bye to. I hate this, but it has been nice in one way. As we find an item and think about whether to keep it or let it go, we have had a chance to enjoy many, many memories that otherwise may not have come to mind. One of the hardest times was when I came upon the music I used to sing with preschool and elementary age children in church, Sunday School, camp, nursery school and day care. It's just old music, but I poured over these books week after week, selecting songs, thinking about presentation, singing them with the enthusiastic and joyous voices and energetic movement of young children. It was wonderful. But that time is probably over for me. There was lots to remember and lots to celebrate before I put them in a box to throw away. Those times were a big part of who I am, and now they are over. I remember them well, and I hope some of the children I was with do too. This is the only time I've cried so far and, if truth be told, later that week, I came back and "rescued" some of them.
Soon we will be in a new home in a new community. I am sure it will be nice, but I am apprehensive. I don't know what my life will be like there. I won't know people. Sometimes I feel like I will just fade into oblivion. I think that might be easy to do when you are older like me. How comforting the words of the scripture passage today, "Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you"