I've just been the recipient of a small miracle. About 4 inches by 2 inches by 3/4 of an inch, to be precise.
You see, I lost my phone this weekend, and I've been frantically searching for it since I went to put in my pocket as part of my normal getting-dressed routine and it wasn't there. I freaked out a little. I searched my apartment. Then I looked again, pulling the cushions from the chair and the slipcover from the couch and moving everything on every flat surface I could see. I turned my house upside down and shook it hard, praying that phone would shake out.
No dice.
I asked my friends and neighbors to call me, hoping to hear the thing ringing. It went straight to voicemail. Over and over again, straight to voicemail without a ring-- so the battery must have been dead. Thinking that maybe it wasn't at my apartment because I (God forbid!) lost it somewhere else, I retraced my steps, going back to every place around town that I had been since Friday night. I even went back to work and searched there. I searched my car, and in the process discovered that I really need to go out there with atrach bag soon and really clean it. I turned my house inside out again. What used to be my semi-organized paperwork on the coffee table is now a mixed-up heap on the couch because I wasn't overly careful about how I was putting it down when I was moving everything to look underneath it. I even went so far as dumping out a couple of my trashcans to see if somehow the phone had ended up in the trash.
Eventually, I gave up.
I went to bed, thinking that I would check the church and Jen's house tomorrow, and then if I still couldn't find it, I would have to go and get a new phone. I can't afford to not get sub jobs because I've got no phone.
As I fell into bed around midnight, I mentioned to God-- again-- that I could really use His help with this, because my searching was getting me nowhere. Then I fell asleep.
4 AM: I woke up suddenly. Checked the alarm-- nope, not going off. So why was I up? Because God woke me up and told me to go check the laundry pile again.
I fought it. I admit it. It's stupid. I asked for God's help, but then when I got the message, I tried to roll over and go back to sleep. "Couldn't you wait until the morning?" my internal voice whined. "It's too early. I need my sleep."
And I swear, I could feel it, there in the back of my mind,
the look. No, I didn't actually see God's face. I just knew I was getting it. (I wonder if this is what blind people mean when they say they can hear the expression on your face?) I've been on the giving (and the recieving, come to think of it) side of that look enough times to know what it means. You know the look I'm talking about. The parental/teacherly "I'm just going to stand here and stare at you until you do as I say. I've got all day. I'll wait. I'm not going to argue with you, because that would be a waste of breath. Whenever you're ready..." look.
After an hour or so of tossing and turning and not going back to sleep, I finally got up and went over and checked the laundry pile again. No phone, but an earring and a sharpie turned up.
"Go look in the nightstand drawer," was the next prompt. I, of course, answered: "Yes, of course, God; whatever you say." in my sweetest voice.
Not. In reality, it was more like, "But God, how would it even get in there?!? I'd have to move the fan just to open the drawer! This is stupid!" in a sarcastic, griping tone.
There was that
look again. So I got up off the floor, went over, and moved the fan. Nope, no phone. A small voice in my head couldn't seem to resist sulking: "You see!?! It's not there. I told you it wouldn't be."
"Check under the bed."
"But, God..." I crossed my arms and harrumphed. I really didn't see the point of all this. Then the stray thought crossed my mind: "You're always asking God to give you clearer directions...."
Major guilt trip. The obvious corollary to that thought being: "and now that He does, you're going to whine about it the whole time?"
So I got down on my knees again and looked under the bed. I didn't bother pulling out the boxes underneath though. Because I noticed something out of the corner of my eye and turned to see that suddenly, there, in the middle of the carpet, was my phone. Right in the middle of my room.
I swear to you that it wasn't there five minutes earlier. I would have noticed. For crying out loud, I would have stepped on the thing at least three dozen times if it had been there!
I picked it up. The battery was fully charged, with the normal four bars of service, and the screen was showing me that I had voicemail.
Ohhhhhh-kay. Chalk that one up to another lesson in trusting God.
I've really got to learn to give up sooner. This surrendering thing does work, if I let it.
But I've found my phone back, thanks to God's little miracle on my behalf. And despite having only had four hours of sleep, I'm actually
not that tired. But then again, what did I expect? God to give me my phone back like that and then not provide me with energy to make it through the day? Of course not. Soooo....
Praise be to God my maker, who gives phones in the night.
"For even young men grow tired and weary, and youths stumble and fall; but they that wait upn the Lord shall renew their strength." Isaiah 40:31
"Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22-23
