Never Forgotten

I was born in Fairbanks, Alaska. I remember this being my claim to fame as a child. In school, if I wanted to get some extra glory or attention, all I would have to do was say, “I was born in Alaska!” For some reason, this produced great awe and respect from my peers. The inevitable questions were always, “Are you an Eskimo?” and “Why?”

I remember riding in the car with my family one day. I was probably about 7 or 8 years old. I told everyone that when I announced to my friends that I was born in Alaska they would ask why and I never knew what to say. My brother, Steve, said, “Just tell them you wanted to be close to your mother.” My dad started cracking up and I said, “I don’t get it,” which just made him laugh harder.

I was born in February and my mother has told me many times throughout my life that she wanted it to be really, really cold on the night I was born so that I could tell people this amazing temperature. (Really, how often does the temperature on the night you were born come up in casual conversation?) I would ask her how cold it was and the answer was. “Only about 20 or 30 below.” Oh . . . is that all? But, in a land where they would often see 50 or 60 below, it didn’t seem that impressive.

Isn’t this how good mothers are, though? Even before we are born, they are dreaming for us and imagining ways that our lives will be special and unique. After we are born, they nurture and cultivate those things and help us to believe that we can make a difference in the world. Parents are such a great example of God’s love for us, and He uses that love – both mother and father love – as a metaphor to help us understand what He really feels about us.

“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

The implication in this verse is that a mother cannot forget. How ludicrous to think a mother would forget her child. But, it happens. While it’s my father that I live in dread of forgetting me, the idea is the same. Our human memories can be stolen away by disease or accident. And then there are the mothers and fathers who forget their children, not in a literal sense, but a figurative one – turning their backs on their God-given responsibilities for their children. Many people must live with the truth that their parents have “forgotten” them by just not caring the way they should.

And this is why I love these verses so much! No matter what kind of earthly parents we have had, there is Someone who will never forget us. See – he has engraved us on the palms of his hands . . . literally!! This takes away all argument that the crucifixion was something that just “happened” to Jesus. This tells me it was very intentional on his part. He did it – it was not done to him. I have this image of him looking down at those marks left by the nails and not seeing scars, but seeing me. “There she is – there’s Debbie. I did that so she will never be forgotten.” You can replace my name with yours! And yes, He does love you that much!!!