Last Saturday, my son accompanied me on my typical weekend errands, and after he patiently endured the tedium of Costco’s packed aisles and long lines, we were finally en route in the Dodge Millennium Falcon to an impromptu father-son lunch date. As we approached our destination, he randomly blurted out, “Dad, remember that time last month when I…” He went on to recount an anecdote that included me scolding him about some minor indiscretion. He recapped the entire episode almost verbatim and then with a hint of genuine sorrow in his voice, he dropped his head and concluded, “I’m really sorry about that.”

I had forgotten about the whole incident — seriously. This was at least three weeks ago…and to be honest, what he had done was so minor, the offense so inconsequential, that I almost certainly forgot about it the day it happened. What he described and dictated back to me with court-reporter accuracy sounded vaguely familiar, but I had to exercise a little bit of effort to recall it.

Besides, I really didn’t even care…I was so exhausted and distracted by some personal trials I’d been experiencing throughout the week. Furthermore, he and I were on our guys day out…on our way to get his favorite: Oreo cookies-n-cream ice cream from Culver’s. Who’s got time to remember something rude or inconsiderate an 8-year-old did almost a month ago? Do you know how much stuff has transpired since then? Like stuff of real significance?

My boy had a better recollection of his wrongdoing than I did. Similarly, we have a Father with divine amnesia whose propensity to forget our sin exceeds our proclivity to forget His grace. We remember what we did last night, yesterday, last week, the year before… He has moved on, forgiven it, and is making all things new. We’re still stuck in “I’m so sorry about what I did.” God smiles and says, “I’m not.”