Monday, February 20, 2012
Hugs and Saguaros
So this is my little story:
We went out to the Saguaro National Park (about fifteen miles down the road) on Saturday to count cacti for an Eagle project. I was grousing around for much of the morning trip because I had to drive out there, and, because we have a huge van, haul fifteen people down the windy road to the census site, drop them off, and then complete the windy eight mile loop (at fifteen miles per hour dodging hikers and bikers) back out to take my daughter to Tucson Jr. Strings practice.
We'd already dropped one daughter off at Orchestra Regionals and I would have to go back to the house and fetch her forgotten performance clothes, take them to her, and pick the youngest daughter back up from TJS and take her back out to the site to do the census.
In other words, it was a REALLY busy day with a bunch of logistical problems. I was exhausted from lack of sleep, hadn't had breakfast, and having to go fifteen miles an hour when we were late just tore at my speed-loving psyche. I must say I whined like a two-year-old. (And did those curves at 40 mph--it was lucky I never hit anyone.)
On the way to the census site I found out I'd left my sunglasses home; it was glaringly bright out there and I really needed them. So the idea was to get my sunglasses, the clothes, and some extra water when I went home.
Well...I couldn't find my sunglasses anywhere. They were brand new and I really needed them, so I started praying, all the while knowing that it was a stupid thing to be obsessing over. Because faith without works is dead I started putting various family members' things away which they'd left in the living room and checking under them. A little voice kept saying, "Well put that away. How about that pile of stuff? And that?" After a while I'd done service for everyone in the family.
The thought (mine, I'm sure) occurred to me that I should stop bugging God, especially when I still had my old, scratched pair to use. Finally I'd cleaned up the whole living room; I decided that I'd just have to use the others. No catastrophe. I should just stop whining and take off.
I was going out the door when I noticed one of my decorative magnetic hearts on the floor next to the door. They almost never fall off the metal coat closet. I was in a hurry so I wasn't going to pick it up, but at the last minute I changed my mind and bent to retrieve the heart.
There, caught behind the couch and right next to that heart, were my sunglasses!
I just started to laugh and cry all at once. And I felt ashamed that I'd spent so much of that glorious morning grousing about minor annoyances.
This was a really little thing. But the significance of that heart on the floor next to the glasses I'd been praying about, let me know that my Father in Heaven had just given me a hug to let me know that even the little things matter to Him.