What a full month it’s been since my last post…the best adjective I can think of for it is rich. Rich times with friends, rich conversations, and rich memories. It’s been good.
As a sidenote before I begin my story, I am now a year older. To my surprise I was honored with a party, a homemade cake with Greek lettering, “prank” flowers, and awesome presents–not to mention the gift of the presence of people I care about. It was cool.
Anyway, I’m sure you’re wanting to hear the story of my idiocy, so I’ll get on with it.
One of my roommates was leaving this week, so a few days ago, several of us went down to a lake near our school for a night of ice skating, bonfire, that kind of thing. Before I go on, I should explain that the seminary is on a huge hill (some might consider it more of a mountain) and is surrounded by huge hills. The lake is at the foot of the school hill. There is a long path that gradually slopes down to the lake. Some people, however, prefer to go straight down the hill (through brush, trees, snow, etc.) to the lake–which is a shorter distance but a harder trek.
Going to the lake that night, we took the path.
We had fun skating around and standing around the bonfire. As the fire died down, one of the guys in our group recommended we go straight up the hill to get back. We reluctantly followed. After a lot of climbing, slipping, and grunting, we made it to the top. As we were walking back to housing, I realized I did not have my phone. I resolved to search for it the next morning. One of my roommates claimed that she would be up when I got out of my first class and said she’d be willing to call my phone repeatedly until I found it.
After class the next day, I slowly started down the hill. I couldn’t even really tell how we had ascended the night before. Every few steps, I would stop and try to listen for a ring, but I never heard one. After several minutes, it occurred to me that my roommate probably was not even awake; she wouldn’t be calling me. I was left to fend for myself. As I saw more and more of the steep hill that lay in front of me, I became more and more discouraged. I groaned, “This is really gonna be finding a needle in a haystack.” I reached a place I recognized (all of us had slipped there) and looked around. Nothing. And there was still a lot of hill to go. In my frustration, I cried out, “Kimmy [the roommate], where are you when I need you?!” As I stood there, surveying what lay ahead and stewing in my aggravation, God spoke to my heart. “You don’t need her; You need Me. I’m here. Keep going and keep your eyes open.” Reluctantly, I continued.
I made it all the way to the lake, where I noticed something laying on the other side. Carefully, I crossed to the other side to investigate. It was a rock. I sighed and walked back to where I had come from; it was time to retrace the route yet again. I stopped at the lake’s edge, where we had begun the climb back up the hill, and gazed up at all the brush and distance that lay ahead. I said out loud, “Who am I kidding?” My gaze finally fell to the ground right in front of me, where the first set of snowy footprints was. Peeking out from one of the footprints was a bit of black. I reached down and to my amazement found my cell phone–cold and wet, but working perfectly. All I could do was laugh, look up, and answer my own question: “Apparently not You!”
I took the path back to school, and then the apartment, where my roommate had just awoken. She said that she had accidentally left her phone on vibrate and had slept through the alarm; she apologized profusely. I smiled and told her that it had actually worked out better that she had slept in, and told her the story. She was as amazed as I was.
God directed me to find the needle in the haystack–and with no outside help. Had it not been for Him, there’s no way I could have found my phone. It was one of those little miracles.
I walked away from the experience humbled…and also more concerned. (This is where the me being an idiot part comes in.) I couldn’t help but think: do I really realize just how involved God is in my life? Why would I doubt if He could help me find a phone? If God will help me in matters as trivial as that, how much more is His hand on my life in the big things (and small things too)? Do I really realize how much God guides me? Do I really know that His love and presence are constant? Why do I question Him when He constantly proves how intricate His sovereignty is?
As the title goes, sometimes I’ve gotta join Job, put my hand over my mouth, and say, “God, I’m sorry. Sometimes, I’m an idiot.”