forgotten

As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more. Psalm 103:14-15


I've been thinking a lot lately about the spiritual value of being forgotten, and how forgotten creates some of the most fertile soil possible for the life of God's Spirit to grow within us.  It is the soil of humility, and dependence, and trust.  In fact, it is soil that is so fertile that fruit just seems to spring abundantly into being from within it.  So much so that it is a wonder I still resist it at almost every turn. Why is that?  It would seem that because of its fecundity (nice word, huh?) I would want to dwell in the soil of forgotten as often and as long as possible; but of course the reality is that nothing could be further from the truth.  In fact, my default mode is to run away from it rather than embrace it; even though the chief fruit of forgotten is something that my heart most deeply desires--freedom. Freedom grows abundantly in the soil of forgotten, if we are willing to take up its invitation to do a wonderful work within us, rather than allow it to be a source of angst, or insecurity, or fear.  Forgotten, when embraced, brings about freedom; both freedom from and freedom to. Freedom from having to prove myself. Freedom from trying to make a name for myself. Freedom from jockeying for position. Freedom from having to matter. Freedom from having to be the point. Which results in freedom to love God. Freedom to belong only to Him. Freedom to serve Him completely. Freedom to genuinely love people without needing anything from them in return. So not only does forgotten produce significant fruit within me, it also is incredibly fruitful for the Kingdom.  Therefore, maybe forgotten is not something to simply embrace, but something to actually pursue.


Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget, I will not forget you!  See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands...Isaiah 49:15-16