Forgetful, but Not Forgotten

So, lately I have noticed a disturbing trend with myself. I am forgetful of things in Mozambique. It all started quite innocently really. I was doing our taxes this week and had to riffle through our receipts of our life the past year. Receipts could tell a story that is for sure. Memories came flooding back but I had a hard time trying to instantly recall the names of restaurants, stores, and people. It made me sad. Then today my friend Esther, who is a missionary on furlough here in the US from Mozambique right now, called and I didn't recognize her voice on the phone. It disturbed me. Our life has been one of many changes and transition, especially in the last couple of years. I guess you could call us gypsies or nomads of sorts. It is hard at times to feel as though you have no roots and that your life is in constant motion. I am grateful that all along our paths God has always gifted us with friends and fellowship. It just makes me sad that some days you take a quick glance back and wonder did all that really happen? Were those people really a part of my life? So strange, yet although I may be forgetful those precious gifts from the Lord are not forgotten. Never.