Wednesday, July 29, 2009

I Am Not Forgotten


So we bought this car that looks a lot like this one, but the rims were... um... worse. After losing big honkin' man truck when the economy went bad Ken was never in love with this car, but I liked it. It was smaller. It was very, very good on gas. The week we got it I filled it up for only 15 bucks. That was heavenly after paying 20 bucks for a quarter of a tank. Big honkin' man truck consumed copious amounts of twenty dollar bills.

I was happy to be on the road again. Life isn't easy in Inktown for a big family with no car. That's not to say our "Vision"--that's the kind of the car we had: an Eagle Vision--didn't have it's problems. It sorta started falling apart. We started patching it up. We don't have much money, so this was hard, but we were doing it. Yesterday afternoon Ken and I decided we were going to throw caution to the wind, give the car the best once over we could for our money, and head to Lexi with the family on August 3rd. Nothing was going to stop us. At least that's what we thought.

Not an hour later I went outside to take my mother-in-law to the store in my lovely, gas efficient car, and it was gone. Yep. Somebody stole my Vision! And isn't that ripe with symbolism?

Of course we went through the full range of emotional responses to such an affront. We called the police. We filed a report. We railed about it to our neighbors. Ken and I met up again in our bedroom many, many hours later. We stayed up talking into the wee hours of the morning, finding consolation in each other the way the battle weary do.

This was a real faith lesson to me. Facing this loss, which was huge to us, I had to ask myself what it is I really believe. Is God still faithful? Can I trust Him in this? Will I say a prayer for the person that stole my car--and not one of those cursing prayers David was so fond of praying when he composed the Psalms.

Yes, yes, and yes, though admittedly, asking God to be merciful to the car thief was harder. What drove them (no pun intended) to do it? Did they have a big family and need to get around, too. That's unlikely. It was probably some drug thing. They certainly weren't trying to live large styling and profiling, not in my ride. It was the most unpimped car on our lot. When I think of it, I get this feeling of despair and hardness in our car's booster. I guess that's an even more important reason to pray for them.

Finally, Ken and I fell asleep. And I can't say I wasn't discouraged, but as soon as I got to my computer this morning, there was an email from one of my Godbabies, Kosha. She's pretty amazing, y'all. I'm one fortunate woman to have her in my life. She sends me abundant gifts of love, including the wonderful pink quilt of fabulous she had her grandmother make just for me. So, in my inbox was a single line, "I love you Godmama. Kosha." That alone lifted my heart, but it was the attachment that broke the levee restraing my emotions and made me bawl like a baby. It was a song by Israel and New Breed. The title alone said enough:

"You are not forgotten."

I don't care how much faith you have, sometimes, you feel a little beat up by life. If you are battered and bruised by the dailyness of living, take heart. You really, truly, are not forgotten. Don't blame yourself.

Without further ado, the lyrics:

People walking by, very seldom they say hi, they don’t know how wonderful you are
If they only knew all the things you’ve been through, if only they could see your heart
I hear you crying for help, please don’t blame yourself;
You are not forgotten, you are not forgotten

When it’s time to go to sleep and you try your best to keep yourself from falling apart.
There’s no need to fear, because I’m already here, and I’m the one who sees your heart
I hear you crying for help, please don’t blame yourself;
You are not forgotten, you are not forgotten

You are not just a face in the crowd, you are not a forgotten child
Let me whisper it loud, I love you, oh, I love you

You can hold your head up high, ’cause I’ll make everything alright,
I’m committed to you smiling again
And eventually you’ll see people’s similarities, everyone just needs a friend
And when they’re crying for help, you’ll be able to tell them, please tell them for Me

You are not forgotten, you are not forgotten
You are not forgotten, you are not forgotten

Just remember, you are not forgotten

mair

4 comments:

Joe said...

Well, it sucks that someone stole your car. That's truth. Yet what a lyrical way to offer another lesson (which I, too, need oh ... about ... like ... DAILY!!!) in forgiveness.

For myself, for others, etc.

Blessings from a ragamuffin out on the borderlands of Laredo, TX ...

Grace and peace -- Joe

ragamuffin diva said...

I know, right, Joe? From one ragamuffin to another, we'll get through it.

Love you, dude!

wilsonian said...

Oh Mair... I hardly know what to say.
I am so sorry. :(

Kay Day said...

Awful! I can't imagine how you feel.

But God is faithful, right? He urged your girl to send that song, to send you a message straight from His heart.

How He loves us! It's mind blowing.