something false and finite

One of the great blessings of writing and journaling is being able to look back over life and remember and reflect. I just spent a little bit of time looking through some of my past blog posts, and I was reminded of some things. I was reminded of joys and sorrows and hopes and fears and experiences and thoughts. It was a good reminder. We tend to forget a lot. At least I do. I mean, I have a stellar (almost freakish) memory most of the time. But, I heard someone, somewhere say that our problem is that we remember the things we should forget and forget the things we should remember. We remember how many times we have failed or others have failed us, but we forget God's forever faithfulness.
I will be completely honest in admitting that I have been in a state of forgetting. I have been forgetting how good God is. I have been forgetting the unbelievable things He has done in and through me. I have been forgetting about where He has taken me from and where He is bringing me to. I have been forgetting about the joy that waits anew each morning.
But, after taking a few moments to look back, I am remembering again. I am remembering those darn Israelites. Talk about forgetful. God delivered them from the Egyptians, and even gave them all the Egyptian's gold and valuables. God parted a SEA(!) for them to walk across on dry land. He gave them manna from Heaven. He made pure water come forth from a rock. He brought quail to them (both low to the ground and out of season). He provided them with indestructible tunics and sandals. He promised them a land flowing with milk and honey. But, they forgot. They grumbled and complained and cashed in their promised future for something false and finite.
Oh, how sometimes I want to cash in for something false and finite.
The problem is that I know it is false and finite, and so I can't do it. I have searched for ways to justify it. I have argued every possible angle. I have painted elaborate pictures of Egypt, leaving out all the things it lacked. I have wanted to settle, to flop down right where I am at and say, "this is good enough." I have seen what appears to be greener grass on the other side of the fence and caught myself trying to swing my leg over to that side.
Sometimes false and finite things are so pretty and shiny and easy-looking.
And so, it is good for me to remember that things aren't always what they seem, that "good enough" is never enough, that God's faithfulness has no measure, that love covers a multitude of sins, that I cannot go back but can go forward, that pain is hard and real and does not need to be excused, that the future is bright and hopeful and true, that joy is chosen and embraced. I am thankful for writing and remembering because while I live in the false and finite, I live for the True and Infinite.