There is hardly a day that passes that I don’t misplace something – my keys, a piece of mail, my grocery list, my reading glasses, or some article that I have put in a “safe place,” which I cannot seem to recall. St. Anthony and I are on a first name basis, and he must shake his head in disbelief each time I implore his aid.
I firmly believe that there is a designated lost and found room in heaven filled with items that have somehow made their way there. I am evolving into my maternal grandmother, Maggie, who used to perch her glasses atop her head and then spend hours searching the house for them. We used to just let her go until she finally reached up and was amazed to discover her specs.
I had just recently sent a text to a friend when it happened. My smart phone, which tests my intelligence and patience on a daily basis, leaped from my hand and into absolute oblivion somewhere in the bowels of our van. I reached my hand as far as I could between the console and the driver’s seat with no luck. Because it was dark outside, it was futile to look further.
I got out of the vehicle, moved the seat back as far as I could, peeked under it and found nothing but petrified French fries, 17 pennies, two rubber bands, a grocery list, and a pair of reading glasses. How could an inanimate electronic object disappear so quickly? Within a matter of a few seconds, it did its own magic vanishing act, leaving me bewildered and angry.
With the absolute assurance that the phone did not vanish into thin air, I was relentless in my frantic search for it. I asked my husband and co-pilot to call me, which he did. We heard the unmistakable ring several times, but we could not determine the origin of the phone. We did, however, narrow the location to somewhere in the front section of the van.
I got the brilliant idea to use my keychain flashlight to help in the search, only to learn that the “lifetime” battery included had failed to last as advertised. Knowing there was a drugstore in the vicinity, I headed there to purchase a new flashlight. Almost all of the ones on display required additional batteries to power them, until I found a solar powered model that was reasonably priced and in ready to go condition.
I eagerly snatched it up and headed for the check-out, where I shared my predicament with a youthful male clerk, hoping he would volunteer to assist me. He seemed disinterested and kept his eye on the clock in anticipation of his scheduled break.
That purchase solved the problem immediately. As I shone the powerful light, it revealed that the evasive phone was wedged firmly on its side right against the driver’s seat. After enlisting the help of a flat wooden stick intended to stir paint, kept in the car for such emergencies as this, I was able to dislodge it and retrieve my lifeline to the world. The new flashlight will perch atop the dashboard, soaking up solar power daily and remain within our vehicle for any future incidents that might require illumination.
As I reflected on this incident, it occurred to me that God is like that phone. He is always with me, allows me to communicate with others, and, although there are times when I lose sight of Him, I continue to receive signals that let me know He is still there, firmly implanted close to me. Although my light may grow dim in my quest to find Him, there are plenty of places where I can recharge it and let it shine brightly once more.
Like Maggie’s errant glasses, may I never lose sight of what is most important to me and realize it’s always here within me.
Copyright ©2023 Mary Margaret Lambert
