So it seems that Christians can forget Christ! There would be no need for this loving command if our memories couldn't prove treacherous. And this isn't mere speculation—alas! it's confirmed again and again in our experience, not as a possibility, but as a lamentable fact.

It appears almost impossible that those who have been redeemed by the blood of the dying Lamb, loved with an everlasting love by the eternal Son of God, could forget their gracious Savior. Startling to the ear! But alas, too apparent to the eye to let us deny the crime.

Forget him who never forgot us! Forget him who poured his blood forth for our sins! Forget him who loved us even to the death! Can it be possible? Yes! Not only possible—conscience confesses it is too sadly a fault with all of us. We suffer him to be as a wayfaring man tarrying but for a night. He whom we should make the abiding tenant of our memories is but a visitor therein. The cross—where one would think memory would linger, where unmindfulness would be an unknown intruder—is desecrated by the feet of forgetfulness.

Does not your conscience say that this is true? Do you not find yourself forgetful of Jesus? Some creature steals away your heart, and you are unmindful of him upon whom your affection ought to be set. Some earthly business engrosses your attention when you should fix your eye steadily upon the cross.

It is the incessant turmoil of the world, the constant attraction of earthly things which takes away the soul from Christ. While memory too well preserves a poisonous weed, it suffers the Rose of Sharon to wither.

Let us charge ourselves to bind a heavenly forget-me-not about our hearts for Jesus our Beloved, and whatever else we let slip, let us hold fast to him.