Do Not Forget
“Be careful that you don't forget the Lord your God by failing to keep his commands, ordinances, and statutes that I am giving you today.” — Deuteronomy 8:11 (CSB)
Israel was standing on the edge of everything they'd prayed for. Forty years of wilderness behind them, a land flowing with milk and honey in front of them. And Moses, at the end of his life, gives them a warning that sounds almost strange.
Be careful. Not about the enemies in the land. About forgetting.
Read the verses around it and the logic gets clearer. When you've eaten and are full, when you've built nice houses and settled down, when your herds multiply and your silver increases, then your heart becomes proud and you forget.
Moses isn't worried about the desert. He's worried about the abundance. Hunger keeps you dependent. Comfort makes you forgetful.
That's an uncomfortable word for most of us, because we're not in the wilderness. We're in the land. And the danger in the land isn't that God stops providing. It's that we stop noticing, and start assuming we built this ourselves.
Look at how Moses says to fight it. Keep His commands. Obedience is the memory device. You don't stay grateful by feeling harder, you stay grateful by staying close.
Gratitude is the guard against that. It's the practice that keeps saying, this came from somewhere. It keeps you honest about who filled the pantry.
So the first week of this month lands on a warning as much as an invitation. You will forget unless you decide not to.
The wilderness taught them to depend on God daily. The danger was that the land would teach them not to. Full hands and a forgetful heart is a real combination. Moses saw it coming from forty years out.
Name the area of your life where things are going well enough that you've stopped thanking God for them. Say thank you for it today, specifically. You can let comfort make you forgetful, or you can let it make you grateful. Comfort will not choose for you.
Prayer
Lord, thank You for bringing me into good land. Guard my heart from the pride that forgets where it all came from. When my hands are full, keep my memory honest. I did not build this, and I do not hold it together. You did, and You do. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Israel was standing on the edge of everything they'd prayed for. Forty years of wilderness behind them, a land flowing with milk and honey in front of them. And Moses, at the end of his life, gives them a warning that sounds almost strange.
Be careful. Not about the enemies in the land. About forgetting.
Read the verses around it and the logic gets clearer. When you've eaten and are full, when you've built nice houses and settled down, when your herds multiply and your silver increases, then your heart becomes proud and you forget.
Moses isn't worried about the desert. He's worried about the abundance. Hunger keeps you dependent. Comfort makes you forgetful.
That's an uncomfortable word for most of us, because we're not in the wilderness. We're in the land. And the danger in the land isn't that God stops providing. It's that we stop noticing, and start assuming we built this ourselves.
Look at how Moses says to fight it. Keep His commands. Obedience is the memory device. You don't stay grateful by feeling harder, you stay grateful by staying close.
Gratitude is the guard against that. It's the practice that keeps saying, this came from somewhere. It keeps you honest about who filled the pantry.
So the first week of this month lands on a warning as much as an invitation. You will forget unless you decide not to.
The wilderness taught them to depend on God daily. The danger was that the land would teach them not to. Full hands and a forgetful heart is a real combination. Moses saw it coming from forty years out.
Name the area of your life where things are going well enough that you've stopped thanking God for them. Say thank you for it today, specifically. You can let comfort make you forgetful, or you can let it make you grateful. Comfort will not choose for you.
Prayer
Lord, thank You for bringing me into good land. Guard my heart from the pride that forgets where it all came from. When my hands are full, keep my memory honest. I did not build this, and I do not hold it together. You did, and You do. In Jesus' name, Amen.
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