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When We Forget to Remember

(photo not mine)

(photo not mine)



September 11th always moves me. All day yesterday, for real, I was on the verge of tears. It’s like, in my mind, I NEED to remember what happened. The more time that passes, the more I am afraid I’ll lose the essence of how I felt as we sat watching our country come under attack. The vulnerability. The utter devastation. The heartbreak and turmoil over the souls we knew were-at that moment-passing into eternity. We quickly realized that our lives, as Americans, would probably never be the same. On that Tuesday, I remember feeling it was somehow unfair that the sun continued to shine. But a week ago? The terrorist attacks were the furthest thing from my mind.

Why? Because we forget. And lately, I’ve been reminded that we can forget a lot of things.

My job as a Pediatric nurse is a very unique one. It finds me around a hoard of vibrant, talkative youngsters, and let’s just say their tongues can become pretty loose when they think I’m not listening. *snickers* But for real though… whoa. The Drama. My heart hurt just listening to them. Not because what they were talking about was offensive, but because this group of 10-year-old girls were growing up too fast. Too concerned about their clothes, their popularity, who so-and-so likes, and who is “too good” for whomever. (Umm, it is whomever, right?? My english teacher would scold me.) But as I listened to these pre-adolescents playing at adulthood… I began to remember.

Because it’s so easy to forget, right?

Easy to forget how badly you wanted to be accepted. Easy to forget how it hurt when you felt you weren’t good enough… or pretty enough OR popular enough. How “if only” you could afford that kind of wardrobe, you would have the quality of life she has. Then maybe he would love you. We forget the sting of rejection when he had his arm around someone prettier than you. And most of all, it’s easy to forget all those tears you cried into your pillow.

But hey-maybe that’s just me.

When I first typed out “preadolescents playing at adulthood” I thought, “No… that’s not right. We don’t still act that way. We grow out of that type of mindset.” But do we really?? Because I’m pretty sure many of our “wants” are the same, just dressed up in a prettier, more acceptable package. Because deep at the heart of things, what we really long for… is to be loved. We want to know that someone accepts us and thinks we are unique to the rest of the world. We want to know that, individually, we are actually worth fighting for. And that’s okay. We have been created with that deep heart-need resting inside of us for a reason. Our problem is when we easily forget the “why” of our searching (or the Who, rather) and start looking for a “what”. Up-to-date cars, and the “I want everything” houses. That job that finally gets you the respect and  money you deserve. The long-awaited husband that you just KNOW is the answer to all your prayers.

And we forget.

We forget that people and things can’t. fix. us.

Incredible thought: It is okay for you to be needy. Kinda crazy, right? We’ve spent a lifetime trying to separate ourselves from looking too desperate. We’ve borne too many nights fighting the longing inside us to be loved more, to possess more, to simply know that we are… enough. And, I don’t know if this does a thing for you, but sometimes, you just need to hear that you have permission to be needy. My friend, can I just be real with you? Jesus longs for your neediness. Isn’t that an astounding thought? He wants to take your anxious, searching, thirsty heart and draw it to His chest. He aches to wrap His strong arms around your shoulders, and soak up every empty space that you have bouncing around in your tired, battle-weary soul.

I stumbled across this quote in my reading this week. Pretty sure I needed it more than any of us.

  ValleyofVision1

 And leave me there. Lest I forget.

   
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