Who will remember us?  Unless we are famous or well-known, once those who physically knew us are gone, we may as well be gone, too.  Our names may appear in a family genealogy, our photographs in a family album, our letters perhaps kept for posterity, but we remain in name only, and even that is hollow.  No one will really know who we were.  We're forever gone.
     Only if there is God will we really remain.  Only if there is an eternal God, an eternally remembering God, an eternal, omniscient, and remembering God, will any memory of us be preserved beyond the deaths of our physical descendants.  Only if there is a living God, a God who has always been and who always be--and who, in Jesus, has made himself known--will memory really last, will memory really mean something beyond its immediate experience and expression.  If there is a God who is remembering, if there is a God who is in some way remembering every human being, no one will die, no one will pass on entirely forgotten, be it immediately or in the far future.  Everyone will, in some way, remain.  There is remembrance, there is memory; there is condition and hope beyond the grave.  Our history will not end.