Sometimes, I feel like I’m way too in my own head. Like my anxious thoughts are winning. It’s not the kind of anxiety you can always trace to something specific, but more like a low hum in the background. I’ve tried to push it down—stay busy, stay distracted—but it eventually catches up to me.
It wasn’t until I started paying closer attention to what was going on in my mind that I began to see what was really happening. My thoughts were being fueled by lies.
Lies about who God is. Lies about who I am. Lies about my worth, my future, my relationships, my job.
And the wild thing is—I know these things aren’t true. I know who God is. I know what scripture says. I’ve been a Christian for years. And still, my mind can get hijacked by thoughts that simply aren’t true.
I need help remembering. We need help remembering.
Life is loud—anxiety, loud voices, distractions, struggles—and all of it makes us forget. We forget the goodness of God. We forget his presence. We forget his promises. And when we forget who God is, we start to lose sight of who we are too.
This forgetting is sneaky because it’s not always obvious when it’s happening. Sometimes, it’s a subtle shift in how we think or speak. Other times, it’s a full-on spiral of fear, self-doubt, or shame.
But forgetting never leaves us neutral—it opens the door to other stories to enter our minds. Stories that say:
- “You’re on your own.”
- “God is distant and uninvolved.”
- “You’re failing and everyone can tell.”
- “God isn’t really good.”
- “You have to be impressive or needed to be loved.”
I’ve realized that so much of the Christian life is a battle of the mind. And truth is our greatest weapon. When I call to mind what’s true—about God and about myself—I can feel the lies start to lose their grip.
That’s why remembering matters—not just knowing what’s true but actively calling it to mind.
This is what I love about Lamentations 3. The writer is in the depths of grief, anxiety, and darkness. He’s not acting like things are okay. He’s being honest in his struggle. And then, we get to a turning point:
“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
His mercies never come to an end;
They are new every morning;
Great is your faithfulness.
‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in Him.’”
(Lamentations 3:21–24)
The writer’s circumstances didn’t change. But something else did—he made a choice to remember what’s true. And that choice gave him hope.
That’s the invitation for us, too.
To remember God’s faithfulness.
To remember his nearness, even in suffering.
To remember that he has provided before… and that he’ll do it again.
To remember our worth isn’t in our performance but in who we belong to.
To remember the cross. The resurrection. The hope we have in Jesus.
And not just once. Again and again. Because forgetting is easy—but remembering is powerful. When we choose to remember, we fight back against lies. We anchor ourselves in the story that’s actually true.
But it’s not automatic. It’s a practice. So what do we do?
We find ways to remember truth - real truth. God’s truth. For me, that has looked like:
- Memorizing Scripture that counters the lies I believe
- Writing truth on sticky notes and putting them where I’ll see them (or as my phone background)
- Listening to worship music when my thoughts feel anxious or out of control
- Repeating the same prayer every morning to center my heart
- Talking with friends who remind me of who God is
- Keeping a journal of answered prayers
And sometimes, it’s just pausing—like the writer of Lamentations—and saying, “This I call to mind…”
It’s not about pretending life isn’t hard. Or that we don’t have worries or fears. It’s not about fixing everything overnight. It’s about choosing, over and over, to remember what’s true.
Some days, it feels easy to say, “The Lord is my portion. His mercies are new every morning.” Other days, it feels like a fight.
But when I remember—I have hope. Not because my circumstances changed but because I remember who God is: good, faithful, in control. And I remember who I am in him: loved, secure, free.
So, if your thoughts have been loud lately—or if you feel stuck in fear, shame, or self-reliance—pause and ask: What lies am I believing? And what truth do I need to call to mind?
Let’s be people who remember. Because remembering who God is gives us hope.
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