The other day, my husband was reading my manuscript for Imposters 3, An Honorable Deception, before I turn it in. Now, he reads most of my books before I send them off to my editors, but he’s bowed out of the last couple for one reason or another, which means he hasn’t read anything of mine since Imposters 2, which I turned in back in March. We talk a lot about my writing, the edits that come in, the whole process, and David is without competition the one who does most to support my writing on a daily basis, reworking our lives around my deadlines.

So anyway. The other day I was back at my desk in Xoe’s room (okay, Xoe’s desk in Xoe’s room, but it’s mine until she comes home for Thanksgiving, LOL) working on a cover design. I heard him walking through the living room so knew he’d be coming my way and thought he’d poke his head in to share something he just saw on Facebook or even ask a question about something in the book, if he was actively reading. Instead, he just walked over to my chair and wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. I think I said something enlightened, like a laughing, “Hi?”

He held me tight a moment more and then said, “Sometimes I just forget what a great writer you are.”

I have no idea what part he’d just read that made him feel the need to walk the length of the house and tell me that, but it warmed me from the inside out. And that phrase just stuck with me. Sometimes I forget…

It stuck because it struck. It resonated. Because you know what? Sometimes we forget.

Sometimes we forget that the people we love aren’t just the people we love.
Sometimes we forget that our kids just need a listening ear.
Sometimes we forget that our friends struggle.
Sometimes we forget that the strangers that cut us off have lives that are weighing on them.
Sometimes we forget that God loves our rivals as much as He loves us.

Sometimes we forget that just because we think something, doesn’t make it right.
Sometimes we forget that we don’t have to fix everything.
Sometimes we forget that we’re the ones who shaped this modern world into what it is.
Sometimes we forget that we can have a conversation and it doesn’t even matter if we agree.
Sometimes we forget that Christ chose sinners as his dinner companions, not the righteous.

Sometimes we forget that suffering should draw us closer to Jesus.
Sometimes we forget that this hard place is necessary to bring us where He wants us.
Sometimes we forget that we actually have it really good.
Sometimes we forget that we can let go and say no.
Sometimes we forget that joy is a choice, not circumstantial.

Sometimes we forget that we are children of God.
Sometimes we forget that we are exactly who He made us to be.
Sometimes we forget that we still have to strive always after Him.
Sometimes we forget that He promised us trials.
Sometimes we forget that every action should be based in love, not getting our own way.

Sometimes, my friends, we forget. We forget who God really is. We forget who we really are. We forget that the people around us aren’t just our vision of them. We forget that our life’s story isn’t the only life story playing out. We forget that we’re called to be part of something bigger than our own concerns.

We all forget. But…we also all remember. We get those glimpses. Those reminders. Those pangs in the heart. And when they come, I pray we can all do exactly what my husband did. Put down whatever we’re doing. Take the journey, whether it’s a phone call or an email or a walk or a drive. Wrap our arms, physically or metaphorically, around someone. And just let them know, “I remember. I remember what a precious gift you are. I remember. And I love you.”

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