God, Remember Your People

By Alex Florez

“Y’Ready?!”

This is a very common utterance in my house. Whenever my kids want to show me something they think is amazing, they exclaim, “Daddy, watch this…y’ready?!”

But they don’t care if I’m actually ready. They’re just really impressed with themselves and want me to be emotionally prepared for the marvel of human achievement they’re about to demonstrate. It’s as if they’re saying, “Dad, you might wanna sit down; I’m about to rock your universe.” Then, my son might proceed to bounce a grape off his head and land it in a cup. Wow, buddy. We better get MENSA over here ASAP.

The thing is, I’m usually not ready to stop what I’m doing to watch their latest production. Sadly, I’ve bought into the myth that my grown-up stuff is more important than their kid stuff. Am I a monster? Maybe. But I bet I’m not the only one who has drunk the Kool-Aid of false self-importance and, as a result, tragically under-appreciated the activity of my children.

Deep down I know that someday I’ll miss my kids’ shenanigans. I’ll wish my son would barrel into the room uninvited and shout for me to watch how many times he can spin in a circle without falling down. When my daughters call from college crying because some neanderthal broke their hearts, I’ll wish they were little again and wanted me to watch them dance to some insufferably saccharine Disney song.

So before I miss the chance to witness every last moment of childishness my kids try to share with me, I want to snap out of the trance I’m in and remember what a treasure I have in them.

I want to be more like my Father in heaven, who has pledged to attend to my every need, to bear witness to every moment of my life—including the countless unremarkable moments in between each spectacular failure and every triumphant celebration. God wants to share all of it with me.

And in those seasons when I’m less concerned with basking in His presence, He assures me that He will always remember me and invite me home. Even when I “come weeping” in acknowledgement of my wandering heart, He promises to receive me “with consolation” (Jeremiah 31:9) and an embrace that reminds me He has been watching this whole time and has never stopped loving me.

He wants me to know it so badly that he would make me a permanent feature of His very own flesh: “Look, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands” (Isaiah 49:16).

That’s the kind of Father I have. He doesn’t simply tolerate my presence; He longs for me to nudge His arm and ask for His attention. He delights to gaze upon me and witness everything I want to share with Him. He delights to remember me, simply because I’m His.

In fact, all of us are invited to approach God and say, “Father, check this out…y’ready”?

And the answer in Christ, whenever we ask, is always an unequivocal, resounding “Yes.”