PHOTO: Mary van Balen But Zion said, The LORD has forsaken me;
my Lord has forgotten me.
Can a mother forget her infant,
be without tenderness for the child of her womb?
Even should she forget,
I will never forget you.
Is 49,14-15
“No, my mother is bringing my lunch over,” my second grade daughter told the boy who had offered to share a sandwich. We had been running late that morning, and I didn’t have time to pack her lunch.
“Don’t worry, honey. I will bring it over before you head to the cafeteria,” I said when I dropped her off at school.
I am not sure what waited for me at home, but the hours passed and I completely forgot about taking over a lunch.
“No thank you,” my daughter said with a smile when one of her teachers offered to buy a lunch for her. “My mother said she would bring my lunch over. She won’t forget.”
I don’t remember if I completely missed her lunch hour or if I made it during the last five minutes, but suddenly, I remembered my promise, threw together a lunch, and rushed it over to the school which was across town.
A sad little girl met me in the hall.
“You forgot me, mom,” she said sadly. She might as well have stuck a knife in my heart. On the drive home I told myself all mothers forget sometimes, but still I felt horrible. No one wants to disappoint those they love.
Today’s first reading is full of the Lord’s promises to the prophet and to God’s people: He will provide food and water so they will not hunger or thirst; he will protect them; he will even cut roads through the mountains for them. The passage ends with the beautiful reference to the love of a mother for her child. God promises not to forget.
That promise is hard to believe. Like my young daughter, we have all been disappointed in those whom we trust. We have all felt forgotten by family and friends. We have all felt alone. How can we believe that the Maker of the Universe will not forget us? How can the Mother of All keep each of us in mind?
Such belief is a choice.
Despite life’s difficulties, I believe God’s love is fierce; it is constant. A mother’s love for her child is a reflection, however imperfect, of God’s ever mindful love of her children.
© 2011 Mary van Balen
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