Don’t you hate it when someone comes up to you and says, “Do you remember me?” Chills run up your spine. Well, actually, it depends on the tone they use. If they aren’t smiling and lean in too close, that makes me want to run. Maybe they have some sinister motive because of a perceived terrible memory of a dreadful encounter. But even when their demeanor isn’t threatening I hate it. I don’t want to say, “No” and hurt their feelings inferring that they are not important enough for me to keep them in mind. Sometimes I am tempted to lie and say, “Oh, of course, now give me a moment to retrieve those marvelous times we had together.” But that can just dig you in deeper.
It happened to me yesterday. I hadn’t seen this person in ten years. He had gained at least 40 to 50 pounds. He had shaved his head and was sporting a goatee. Our appearances can change so much through the years. I sometimes look at a picture of myself taken 50 or so years ago. Wow. That person doesn’t exist anymore. He didn’t die. He just evolved into someone else. He evolved into me. The people I have known, the books I have read, the movies I have watched, the sermons I have heard, the classes I have taught, the jobs I have lost, all have contributed to this person I see in the mirror.
Yet, He knows me. We never have to say to God, “Do you remember me?” While there are moments I want Him to forget, I’m happy He always knows where I am and what I am doing. He even said to Jeremiah, “Before you were I knew you.” That kind of care is amazing!