Butterfingers

As a teenager, for one summertime activity, I traveled to a forest with many other girls from my church. Others around the nation went on similar outings, if they attended my church, so even when I moved I continued to go on that annual camping trip. Surprisingly enough, most years they gave out “awards.” One of my earliest awards was the most accurate: the butterfingers award.

I do not like butterfingers—never have. I did lose things constantly, though. Eventually, when I reached an older age, I decided that constantly misplacing my possessions was super inconvenient, and I learned how to keep better track of my stuff. Now, I only lose things sometimes.

Although, this past week or so has not exemplified my improvement, and it feels like I’m a young camp girl again, not able to keep track of anything. I’ve dealt with a lost: dog, ID card, and gloves. Here’s how it all went:

I finished grocery shopping at Costco (an unrealistic love I have) and decided to stop by my husband’s aunt’s house. He had left a smoothie bottle there, and this seemed like a good time to retrieve it. I parked by the sidewalk’s curb and saw their dog meandering outside. Their dogs don’t just meander though. The family always keeps their pets in the house or well-looked after in the backyard.

Unfortunately, I had discovered the shy one, who started mindlessly walking down the middle of the road, away from me and the house. I called the aunt as I trailed her dog. Her daughter and her were already in the search for the lost pets. I gave them our general location, and they found us rather quickly, so I only had to wave two cars away from running over the husky mix. After they brought this shy husky home, they found the final missing dog and all was back in order.

Good timing, huh? Well, check out the timing in story two.

For the second time this semester, I lost my ID card for school. I need this card to get into work sometimes, and more importantly, I need it to take tests. To take my finals. Unlike the first time, I didn’t find the ID card after a few days. I checked the pockets of pants and jackets, I looked in backpacks and closets, and I searched the car. I didn’t have it.

By the following week, I knew I needed to drop ten dollars for a new ID card. I looked up the information on how to buy a new one on Monday, and Tuesday morning I woke up, ready to to cash out for my consequence. Then I check my Facebook messenger. I don’t know why I opened up the app, maybe because it always say I have a message notification when I don’t, but I opened it anyways. Someone had sent a requested message to me.

They had my ID and wanted to get it back to me. Clumsily, we organized a meet-up for Wednesday, and she kindly handed over my ID and the story of how she came to possess it. Somewhere, her coworker had found it on the ground, and he didn’t know what to do with it, so she offered to take it. Somehow, she found me on Facebook in time for me to not lose ten dollars.

Cool, huh? Well, here’s the third story.

I lost my gloves, which is pretty aggravating, since my husband usually loses his and I felt pretty good about always knowing where mine were. Like the ID, I checked pockets, bags, and had no luck. To this day, I have yet to find them.

Neat, no?

All these stories share an amazing fact: God’s looking out for us. I arrived in time to help my family find their dog, and I made sure it didn’t get killed by any cars. The girl messaged me in time so that I didn’t have to spend money (that seems to increasingly need to be spent) and could use my original ID card once again, in time for finals. I lost my gloves, and haven’t found them, but it doesn’t matter too much. I have coats with pockets for my hands. And, if necessary, I have other gloves that may not be as good, but they provide what I need.

It might seem odd to include my gloves story with the other two, but I find it as impactful. Some days I need my lost things to come back to me. Other days, I learn how to live without and be grateful that I can live without.

However, it’s easy to be thankful in these moments and then let them disappear quickly as our day rushes on. Instead, though, we should take the time to recognize how uniquely miraculous these moments are. The more we remember and express gratitude for these mini miracles, the greater we’ll feel about life—even if we never find the gloves.