By: Dennis Bates
I have a malady, which is frequently associated with aging. I am the last part, but my malady doesn’t come from getting older. I’ve always had it. One of my good friends calls it “Sometimers.” Sometimes I remember things and sometimes I don’t.
I remember the important things like my wife’s birthday (February 12, Lincoln’s real birthday) and our wedding anniversary (Fourth of July, another holiday. Do you see a pattern?) I had a near photographic memory in school, so I didn’t have to learn anything; I just took pictures of notes and chapters in the books and scanned them directly from my head to exams. Unfortunately, that quality isn’t quite as sharp as it used to be. Some of my pictures come out a little blurry these days. Cameras don’t last forever, you know.
But sometimes I simply forget. For example, before we went on a trip to visit my daughter I wrote out all the bills and mailed them. Imagine my surprise today when I went through the foot stack of mail and found a very cordial note from one of my creditors asking ever so nicely, “Did you forget something?” The note went on to thank me for returning the top half of their statement, but pointed out that no check had been enclosed with the statement. I remembered distinctly writing that check and it was written down in the check register. I even subtracted it from the balance. However, before I called the business office in righteous indignation (as I have been known to do), I opened the check book and there was the check, all written out but securely attached to the pad of checks with no particular place to go.
I sent the check this afternoon with a conciliatory note apologizing for my “minor” oversight. I write more and more of those notes these days, but not because I’m aging. Let’s reemphasize that while I still remember. I also almost forgot to put the finishing touches on this blog and post it. Almost. I was talking to my cohort in blog when I remembered I hadn’t put this up yet. Fortunately again, just writing her an email reminded me I needed to actually post this or it would be like the check I never sent.
I got to thinking. Shouldn’t we all be thankful that God doesn’t have Sometimers like we do? He always remembers us and everything else and He certainly has a lot more to remember than we do. We can count on His memory even when we don’t know why or how He does it. He remembers us like He knows the individual hairs on our heads or the sparrows that fall.
I don’t know about you, but I am so grateful that God never has to say, “oops.”