It’s difficult to believe that half the year has passed. Many of us have pretty much remained in our homes, limiting our contact outside as we follow the recommendations for public health professionals. While some have relished in this gift, others like myself have ebbed and flowed. I am grateful to have a place of shelter, and relative access to things I want (and desire), I terribly miss being around other people. Additionally, I’ve tried to limit my external activity as I want to decrease my mother’s exposure. Suffice to say, sometimes I feel like having a full blown pity party, and then said tears morph to a worship experience, thanking God for safety, shelter and that He is still in control, no matter what evidence the world via social media proclaims. I am eternally grateful because no matter how desperate things may seem, I am reminded that God is on the throne.
This past week, I was forced to navigate some highs and lows. A colleague of mine attempted to “through me under the bus” as a defense mechanism for not doing her job. I was beyond angry. Eventually I was able to calm down and respond in the most gracious manner one could envision. The next moment, my supervisor assured me of resolution to the situation. Later in the week, I was terrified after receiving a text from the graduate candidate that her grandmother (my mother) was not feeling well. When I reached her room, she was face down on the bed, slurring her speech and weak. I jumped into response mode, contacted 911 and requested the paramedics to check her out. In the end, she was deemed well. Our afternoon continued, as normal as one could imagine. Later on I traveled out for food and my car stopped on me. We were able to get it back home, with no incident. In that moment, as I reflected, yet again, God allowed me to draw upon one passage to sum up the week. I’m grateful for I Samuel 1:19, which reads, “And the Lord remembered her.” This passage refers to Hannah, who desperately wanted to conceive. She’d petitioned God for such for a long time. She prayed, she wept, she gave up eating, she worshipped. In time, God granted her request; He opened her womb and she bore a son.
No matter what we are experiencing, God has not forgot. We remain the apple of His eye, and nothing is too hard for Him. Certainly, I can’t help but wonder if given the option, would I elect to skip trials; but it is undeniable that every trial has made me who I am today, steeped in faith and the knowledge of God. The Lord remembers us always. We witness and experience tangible remnants of His care and concern over our lives daily. In my case, the colleague has little choice and must work with me, my mom is well and if the Lord allows, will be 87 years old this week and my car will be repaired soon. In each narrative, the Lord remembered. May we as His people, remember that He never forgets.
