I lost my wallet yesterday. I’ve been better the last couple months about putting important things back in their place so it was a bit shocking to me that I couldn’t find my wallet. Wallet always goes back in purse. Keys always go on the hook by the door. Wedding rings go in the wooden canoe each night. You get the idea.
Instead of putting my wallet in my purse, I had apparently set it on the table by my purse. Probably the cat moved it during the night. He’s worse than Swiper on Dora. Both Steve and I remembered seeing the wallet somewhere out of place, but neither of us could find it. Then, just at the edge of my line of sight, I saw the familiar black rectangle shape.
“THANK YOU, GOD for showing me where my wall…wait… that’s not it. Nevermind.” And in my head I stopped mid thank you prayer, actually asking God to ignore the big THANK YOU GOD that had started my prayer.
What an ungrateful little weasel I am. I went ahead and left for work, forgoing the wallet search. I knew it would turn up somewhere. I had a hunch it was in the house and in a commonly used area. At the end of the day, I found it under some mail on the table. I don’t know who moved it there— me, Haiku… God?
Finding it was such a relief. I could finally breathe normal again. I could finally pray an honest prayer of gratitude. I’m thankful that God is a God who seeks out lost things. Mostly I’m thankful that God keeps seeking lost people. Sheep, coins, that pesky younger son… I don’t want to be lost but at least when I get lost or misplaced, I feel like God is looking for me.