Forget Me Not

You know how it goes. You’re sitting there in traffic, or washing the shampoo out of your hair, or grabbing two silent minutes alone in the locked bathroom before tiny little fingers feel beneath the door (What are they looking for anyway? Are they hoping they can grab ahold of you and rip you back out of the bathroom via that 1.5 inch tall space?)… where was I? Oh yes. You know how it goes. When you forget something. Usually you’re in the middle of something completely unrelated and you remember you were supposed to do something else. Like sign a permission slip. Or pay a bill. Or donate a kidney. Something really really important, and you totally forgot.  It’ll go on your to-do list, if you can remember it all the way through your shower.

Sometimes I think that God forgets when I’ve asked Him for stuff. Like that book query I sent off to
an agent 19 days, 3 hours, and 42 seconds ago. Doesn’t He know it’s consuming my every thought? Where is my answer? Better yet, where is my YES answer? Because that’s what I’ve prayed for, not just an answer, but a yes answer.

Do you ever feel like God forgot about something you’ve asked Him for? Deep down I know I should wait – I want to wait. To not tap my foot impatiently, because I know God’s answer will come eventually. You know, “Patience is a virtue”, and “To us, a day is like a thousand years but to God, 1000 years is like a day” – all that jazz. I rest, twiddle my thumbs, and think some more. And think. And ponder. And wonder, what on earth could be more important than answering my prayer?!? (I am certain it ranks higher than peace in the Middle East, and just barely beneath saving the manatee.)

And then I think maybe I haven’t asked enough. That God doesn’t know that I really really really want this thing I am praying for. Perhaps if I ask again… Can I pleeeeeeeeease have this one teensy weensy thing and I will never ask for anything ever again for at least the next ten minutes?

Lies, all lies – of course I’ll ask again.

And then I let out a sigh so loud that that children come running from the next room to ask me why I’m sighing because they know for a fact that the laundry was all in the basket when they left the room.

It’s because I know.

God doesn’t ever forget what I ask Him for. He has my name written on the palm of His hand! He knows how many hairs are on my head, and He knows all about me, because He was the one who knit me together!

I know He knows the desires of my heart. The small ones and the life-altering ones. But I also know that I trust Him to deliver that answered prayer in His time, because when it does get answered – either with a yes, or a no, but try this door instead, or a no not ever, it will be the very best answer He could give. Sometimes I just need a little reminding.

XXXOOO,

Karen

P.S. Has it been ten minutes yet?