My thoughts this morning wander to lives past.
I'm reading 1 Chronicles in the Old Testament and in those first 10 chapters are page after page of names. Names of lives lived, families born, hopes and dreams, smiles and tears. Here are just a couple verses from the thousands mentioned,
The descendants of Elkanah:
Elkanah his son, Zophai his son,
Nahath his son, Eliab his son,
Jeroham his son, Elkanah his son
and Samuel his son.
Page after page the names continue. Names and lives recorder nowhere else. Families, stories, histories all lost except for their names. And yet there is one who knows every story, every laugh, every smile, every tear. The God who recorded their names knows each story, every hope, every dream.
The great God who recorded their names knows my name and yours. Although we may be lost in the records of history, if history continues on, we are known and remembered by one.
Our culture talks a lot about significance and legacy, but frankly it's just illusion. We all will be quickly forgotten after our grandchildren are gone. And yet, there is one who knows us and loves us. It seems appropriate that we live for his approval and not for an imaginary legacy of men who will quickly forget we ever lived.
As I read these many names I wonder, who were they? What did they do? What did they hope for, worry about? What did they dream of? But all of that is lost to all but one...the one who knows each one of us.
Living for an audience of one, and not for the applause of men seems to be the wisest choice I can make because 15 minutes of fame in a world that will quickly forget me is nothing compared to one who knows and loves me for eternity.