I returned from a weekend trip, pulled into my apartment complex , and reached up to the visor to punch the remote control for my garage door, anticipating the blessed whirr and light which would come on – my mechanical welcome home sign after hours on the road. But, familiar black box with the gray button was not there. I stared in disbelief with my car idling and my cat nervously pacing the window sill above me. My mind traced my steps. Had it fallen out at the fast food restaurant when I stopped to get coffee, or at the gas station? Did I notice it when I left to return home this morning? Had it fallen out at the highway rest stop on the way last Friday, or where I had stopped for a soda and lunch?
I patted the floorboard. Nothing. I got out of the car, bent down and felt under the car seat. Nope. The apartment management office was closed. I had an hour to make a salad and dash to a church dinner. Sighing, I drove around to find that illusive weekend parking spot, finally grabbing one two units down the way. I got out, and looked again – just in case. No remote. I walked to my unit, up the stairs and unlocked the front door. I called my friend with whom I had stayed. She didn’t find it by the curb or in her driveway. The gas station receipt didn’t have the phone number on it. I recalled the exit number of the fast food place because I had seen it on a billboard, but not the town. I had no idea where that rest stop was, and had tossed the receipt for the place I’d stopped for lunch on the way.
The whole time I prepared the salad I worried. Then, I threw up my hands to Heaven and put it in God’s hands, resolving that come Monday I’d have to go the the apartment manager, pay the $200 fine for losing the thing, and wait while they ordered a new one.
I traipsed down the stairs, walked to the car and opened the back passenger’s side door to lay the salad bowl on the back seat. There, peeking out from underneath the travel pillow, was the remote. Yes, I believe in miracles and God’s messenger angels. How else could it had gotten from my driver side visor all the way across to the passenger seat in the back right side?
Now, if I had just prayed sooner rather than trying to solve it myself and getting in a lather over it. It was another gentle reminder from my loving Father that I need to turn to Him and give Him control, even in the little things. He cares that much, and He has a sense of humor. I thanked Him, humbled and laughing at myself.
Whatever you have lost – be it your keys, your patience, or even your some of your faith, let God help you find it. After all, you too were once lost and now are found. You may be surprised where He leads you, and then awed about where that thing you lost is lying just out of view.
