1 Chronicles 8:24-28: in context

This passage is a list of names, the heads of families among the tribe of Benjamin: Hananiah, Elam, Anthothijah, Iphdeiah, Penuel, and others. They were, the text says, chief men, heads of their fathers' households throughout their generations, who lived in Jerusalem. We know nothing else about them. They did nothing that history recorded beyond being the heads of their families, names in a genealogy, otherwise forgotten.

These are names we would never otherwise know, of people who did nothing the world remembers. They were not kings or prophets or heroes; they were the heads of ordinary families, living their lives in Jerusalem, and then gone, remembered now only because their names were written down in this list. And yet their names were written down; they were recorded, kept, not lost entirely to oblivion. There is a quiet comfort in this for all of us who will do nothing the world remembers. Most human lives leave no mark on history; we are born, we live, we die, and within a few generations our names are forgotten by the world, as these Benjamite chiefs would be but for this list. And it can trouble us, this thought of being forgotten, of our lives amounting to nothing that lasts, our names erased. But the God who saw to it that these obscure names were recorded knows and remembers every one of his own. Our names may be forgotten by the world, but they are not forgotten by God. A book of remembrance was written before him, Scripture says, for those who feared the LORD and honored his name. And Jesus told his disciples to rejoice that their names are written in heaven. The obscure and the ordinary, unremembered by history, are known and named by God, written in his book, kept in his memory. Our worth and our remembrance do not depend on the world's recording of us, which fails, but on God's, which does not. These Benjamite chiefs are otherwise forgotten, and yet their names endure in God's word; and every faithful, obscure life is likewise known and named and kept by the God who forgets none of his own. We need not be remembered by the world; we are known by God, and our names, unremarkable as they are, are written where it matters, in heaven, in the memory of the God who knows each of his own by name.

Am I troubled by the thought of being forgotten, my life leaving no mark the world remembers and my name erased within a few generations, or can I take comfort that the God who saw these obscure names recorded knows and remembers every one of his own, so that my name, unremarkable to history, is written in heaven and kept in the memory of God?