What if God Remembers?

I found this thank you note from Bri, my middle ten-year-old daughter, tucked in the pages of my journal. I wonder if God ever comes back to the prayers of his children, like I did when I rediscovered this note?

Since God exists outside of time, I imagine him seeing my thank you note prayers to him at all times, even the ones I’ve yet to write.

I wonder if my thank you note prayers look like this to God. Beautiful and confused and mysterious.

Beautiful and confused and mysterious.

I wonder if he smiles at them like I did when I re-read Bri’s love note to me. What if God remembers my forgotten thank you note prayers and breathes his life back into them and reaches out through the beauty of the day to hug me.

I’m sure he seeks me out to grab and hold me as I did with Bri.

Great thinkers believe the beauty of the natural world works like God’s reaching hand extending to grab our own—a gesture of pursuit and care. A sweeping mountain mist, the starry hosts or distant thunder: reminders of God’s love for his children; invitations to run after him as well.

For God wants us to chase him and “perhaps feel our way toward him and find him—though he is not far from any one of us. For in him we live and move and exist.”

I hope he finds one today, one of my thank you note prayers. I would not run from a heavenly hug.

Well, maybe just a bit. Just to play tag or catch me if you can, like Bri often does. Maybe then I’d understand how he hears my prayers and how he loves me.

I’m running, Lord King, catch me if you can.

Catch me.