Jan. 8, 2013
Even the hairs on your head are all counted. Don’t be afraid. You are worth more than many sparrows. – Luke 12:7
In the end, what does life come down to? I’ve pondered this the last few days. At funerals, I often remark how the death of a loved one should force us to stop and take stock of our lives. While I have said these words many, many times, my thoughts are a bit more personal these days. Losing a family member does this.
Last night instead of writing a blog, I looked for pictures of Dad to share at the events later this week. There were some particular pictures I had in mind. I found some of these, but not all of them. The picture of Dad at Wisconsin Junior Holstein Convention wearing a funky hat did not surface. On the flip side, I found pictures I had forgotten about. The whole exercise also made me realize this IS the year I am going to get my photos and memorabilia organized! (I have been saying this to myself since we moved to Mazomanie seven years ago.)
My friend Pam has been helping me. The photos we enjoy the most are the ones not posed, but caught in the moment. Dad and his great-grandson sitting at the table. While the coffee pot is in the way, it’s precious. The photo of my Dad watching my Mom fry homemade donuts. The photos from years ago are hilarious and yet touching. It’s not a very good photo, but the picture of my high school friends walking up the hill at the farm where we were sledding is classic Deaton. And yep, I ran across more than one hairdo I could live without.
Pictures are great because they recall precious memories. On occasion, there are the photos that recall less than happy memories: photos from the day we sold our cattle and machinery on the farm. A picture of my nephews and a couple friends when we went skiing. This was the same day Rick’s son, Nate, was killed in a snowmobile accident.
About 15 years ago, one night, my Grandma Deaton and I spent hours going through a couple boxes of pictures she had. Included were old family photos. She knew that she was the only person who would know some of those people. We stayed up until the wee hours of the morning writing names on the photos. My Mom was less than happy because I kept Grandma up all night. But we had so much fun! She told me stories and family history. Sometimes she wouldn’t remember the people. An hour later, she would remember someone in an earlier photo. We’d dig out the photo and write down what she would remember.
God has a photographic memory of you. In fact, God knows every hair on your head. God can recall the moment you took your first breath, your first tooth, your first day of school. Even when our memories fade, God’s recollections of you are sharp and intact. God is with you in the wee hours of the morning as you prepare for work or end your too-long day.
Are we as diligent about recalling God weekly, daily and hourly? Are our recollections of God nearly as intentional and consistent as they should be? How might you equip yourself so that you can be keep pictures of faith in your daily life?
Your daily presence in our world and lives should overwhelm us, Lord God. Thanks for knowing more about us than we do ourselves. Nudge us to desire a closer relationship with you in the days ahead. Amen.