The story on Sunday was about reminders. I did not realize that the Children of Israel wore bracelets and head boxes, which contained tiny renderings of scripture. The idea was to make it just conspicuous enough that it would remind you. If you were about to reach for more than your share of dessert, the bracelet would niggle your conscience enough to show restraint. If you were about to yell at your spouse, the black box just on the edge of your field of vision could help you hold your tongue. 

 

John and I used to take our car to a mechanic who worked near an orthodox synagogue. When we dropped off the car on a Friday night, we would see the men in yarmulkes, with women walking separately in black skirts and snoods. Their observance of strict dress codes seemed important to them. 

 

I have my own reminders. On one wrist are four silver bracelets engraved with scripture. I could spread them out, two apiece, but then they wouldn't clink. The silver sound is what reminds me. In the discussion after the service, a man said he sometimes wonders at the end of the day whether he remembered to ask God for guidance. 

 

Perhaps our trust can seep into the interactions that happen outside of church. Even without a box on our forehead, we can remember often enough that it becomes part of who we are. 

 

Thirty years ago I was pregnant, and groggily waking up from a truncated night of sleep. I suddenly panicked. 

 

"I forgot to be pregnant!" In that instant, I feared that the baby was gone, because I had ignored her. Fortunately, God is more constant than we are, and did His prenatal magic without help from me. 

 

"Love never sleeps." Secrets of Heaven 1983, Emanuel Swedenborg, 

 

"He who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, He who keeps Israel
Shall neither slumber nor sleep." Psalm 121