Never forgotten

One of the many ways in which people are differentiated from one another is that (so it is said) some people are morning people and others are night-time people.  From my own experience it would appear that a person may change from one to another over the course of their lives (perhaps several times!)  It's probably true to say that for many years I have been much more of a morning person.  It has long been my custom to set my alarm for an early hour.  For some years my alarm went off at 5am (apart from on my day off).  I don't set it for quite so early these days, but I still wake up fairly early.  Even when I haven't set my alarm, my body clock tends to wake me up early anyway.

My normal practise is to spend some time after waking thanking God for the gift of a new day, committing the day into God's hands, and asking for his strength and guidance in meeting whatever the day will bring.  I also pray for my family, and for others I known who are in particular need.  Those early minutes of the day are very precious; it's so good to know that we have a God who cares about every aspect of our lives and into whose hands we can commit every moment of the day.

Most days, much of my prayer time happens before I actually get out of bed.  This isn't necessarily a good idea, of course, because there is the temptation to drift off to sleep again!  I did so a few days ago, and I found myself in dreamland.  I dreamt that I was on a trip abroad with a group (no idea which country).  The group was due to catch a coach which would take us back to the airport ready for the flight home.  The coach had arrived and people were making their way to it along with their luggage.  I decided that it would be wise to visit the loo before the journey to the airport.  When I emerged from the toilet, I realised that the coach had left without me!

So there I was, in a foreign land, abandoned by my fellow passengers, and with no idea how I could find my way to the airport in time to catch the homeward flight.  I'm sorry that I can't relate what happened next, because at that point I woke up again!  For some reason the dream remained very vivid in my memory even after I had woken.  I reflected on the fact that what had troubled me in the dream wasn't that I was alone in a strange place and in danger of missing my flight home.  What really upset me was the fact that no-one seemed to have noticed that I was missing from the party - clearly I was not deemed to be an important member of the group!  

The feeling that ones life isn't worth very much can cause a great deal of heartache.  Earlier today I watched an episode of a US medical series 'House'.  A dying patient made the comment to the doctor, "the world won't be any different after I'm dead, no-one will miss me."  That lack of self worth, and the feeling that no-one cares about us, can be hard to come to terms with.

I love the verse from the prophecy of Isaiah: 

 Can a mother forget the infant at her breast,
    walk away from the baby she bore?
But even if mothers forget,
    I’d never forget you - never.

 Even if the world forgets us, God never will!