As human beings, we are prone to forget.
Even before the advance of age starts its insidious leaching of memory, we forget.
We grow comfortable…and forget. We get busy…and forget. We try to learn…but still we forget.
And so we need reminders.
Zack Eswine, in his little book called Spurgeon’s Sorrows, says this:
“Perhaps, nothing in life reminds us that we are not God, and that this earth is not heaven, like an indescribable distress that sometimes defies cause and has no immediate cure, or no cure at all.”
The specific “indescribable distress” that Eswine refers to is depression, and though I in no way mean to minimize the distress of depression, I would venture to say that there are other dire straits which also serve as reminders that we are indeed human and not-yet-home.
For me, that reminder is the daily battle with my daughter to undo patterns of thinking and living that were entrenched in her during her formative years in an orphanage. And it is the daily battle in my heart to balance training with mercy and replace impatience with love. There is no end in sight for either of those battles–maybe that is something I will carry all my life. Yet even that is a gracious reminder that all my life here is only a dot on the unending line of eternity.
“And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in You.” Psalm 39:7