It’s funny that it took the death of Robin Williams to put him back in the spotlight. Suddenly, all his movies are flying off the shelves at places like Best Buy and Barnes & Noble and seemingly every other hashtag is some variation of either #ohcaptainmycaptain or #riprobinwilliams. Before he died, I hadn’t really thought about him much. Or at all. At least not in a long, long time.

We as a culture are so good at eulogizing and paying tribute to those we’ve lost, but not so good at remembering them while they’re still with us. And we have such short memories. Soon, we’ll be back to business as usual– until the next tragedy or until the next big celebrity passes away.

But something occurred to me just now.

There is never a moment when I am not on God’s mind. There’s not a time when He doesn’t see me and what I’m going through. There will never be an instant when He doesn’t love me as unconditionally and completely as if I were the only person on the planet.

You hardly ever hear anyone talk about Whitney Houston anymore. Or Philip Seymour Hoffman. Soon, all the talk about Robin Williams will die down and we’ll find something new to talk about.

But not in a million years will my God forget me. Not in a billion years will He ever desert me. His love for me will never ever decrease by even one iota. Not even if I were to forget Him.

I’m sitting in St. Paul’s with the lights off. It’s dark and quiet and still. The only sounds I hear are the hum of the air conditioning unit and the occasional pops and creaks of the old floorboards settling.

I am at peace. I’m reminded of what’s really important and what really matters. It’s not what you have or what you do for a living or who you know. It’s about being known and loved and cherished perfectly by the God who made you.

Remember this one thing if nothing else. You are not forgotten.