Lost and Found

I have to admit, I hesitate to write this.  It seems that lately, Heavenly Father is going out of His way to make sure I know how much He's involved in my life.  It makes me worry a little about what may be coming.

The Barrett

Twenty-some years ago, my then-fiance gave me a beautiful metal barrett that he picked up while he was in Europe over Thanksgiving weekend.  I doubt it cost much, but I loved it.  I kept it all these years, until almost 2 1/2 years ago.  I was going to my new doctor's office.  My original doctor/hospital wasn't equiped to handle the challenges we had just discovered were coming our way.  It was winter, but I grabbed the barrett and put it in my jacket pocket, a fairly loose pocket.  Somewhere between getting out of the car and leaving the doctor's office, it fell out.

I searched for it.  I searched everywhere I could think of.  I went back to the office and to the hospital lost and found.  I even went to the cafeteria where I had picked up a snack while waiting for Deborah to come back from running her errands.  I asked everyone I could think of.  Drew pictures.  It was gone.  I was just sick.  It seemed like another sign that life was beating me up.  Kinda like the straw that broke the camel's back.  My baby, my beautiful baby wasn't supposed to live.  I hurt, mentally, emotionally, and physically.  (Carrying him brought it's own unique physical challenges.)  And the loss of this barrett just seemed like another blow. 

Finally, about a year ago, I went looking for something to replace it.  I found something I liked, but even so, everytime I've thought about it, I've felt bad.

Then tonight, as the boys were unloading the van to get ready for (yet another!) scouting activity, David calls out, "Mom, I think I've got something you want."  Great, what's that?  A book?  Something of one of the younger boys that we've been looking for?  Medical equipment that should have come in after church?  No, it was my barrett.  The lost barrett.  The one I was sure I'd never see again.  Important in the grand scheme of things?  No.  Means the world to me?  Yes.

The BAHA

Friday night was Dream Night at the Hogle Zoo.  This is a fun evening for families with medically challenged children.  Some born too soon, some fighting cancers, others with limb and joint deformities.  It's a chance to get out and experience the magic of the zoo.  Again, like with the barrett, I was distracted and in a hurry.  Aaron's BAHA kept slipping down over his face on the ride up, so David just took it off.  But I wanted him to experience the sounds of the zoo, too.  So I grabbed it right before I got him out of his car seat.  And forgot about it.

I was sure I'd put it in my pocket, but I didn't think about it until we were getting back in the car.  (Yeah, so much for experiencing the sounds anyway.)  And then, I couldn't find it.  It wasn't in my pocket, no matter how many times I searched it.  And it wasn't in his bag even though we emptied it twice. 

Frankly, I wasn't sure what to do.  I called the zoo.  Nope, no one had seen anything like it.  Somehow coming up with a replacement for a $7000 hearing aid seemed impossible.  And it's beige.  Yeah, the color of so many other things. 

But this morning, I had to go reattach his car seat before church.  It had been unhooked so that tepee poles could be loaded into the van.  And there was something the right color but the wrong texture sitting in his car seat.  I was trying to figure out what had come undone on his straps or his tummy guard.  But when I picked it up, it wasn't part of the car seat.  It was the BAHA.  Lying right there. Just waiting to be found.

How Fortunate We Are

And the last story (for now?).  On the way home from Dream Nights, we ran into construction.  You know, that fun part where a three-lane highway becomes one lane?  And turns into a parking lot?  And if you think about it, you hope the people behind you notice that everyone's stopping?  Well, not one car, not at first.  We'd just come off the merge of Foothill (a main road) and I-80 east and west and the road went from three lanes to two.  And up ahead it was going to one lane.  So there was a lot of traffic, and it was SLOOOOOOW.  Almost stopped.  But the guy behind us in one of the lanes, wasn't paying attention. 

I heard the squeal of brakes and looked in my mirror in time to watch a sports car skidding sideways across the two lanes.  I hit the gas and aimed for the shoulder, knowing that if I didn't get out of the way, we were going to be hit.  And it wouldn't have been pretty.  Nine kids, four oxygen tanks, wheelchair.  And totally their fault.  (And I really didn't want to be introducing the staff at PCMC to the rest of the kids.)  Thankfully, we made it, and I made sure this guy was AHEAD of me from then on. 

Anyway, at home as we were telling William about it, Matthew made the comment that, "Those guys don't have any idea how fortunate they are."  And it hit me.  None of us actually know how fortunate we are.  (Remember, chronologically, this happened before we found the BAHA or the barrett.)  I think that after this life is over, when we can see clearly all that has happened, we will be amazed at how involved the Lord is in our lives.  How He touches us each day without us even realizing it. 

Behold I say unto you, that by ^bsmall and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise.

Alma 37:6 

Lo, I am ^dwith you alway, even unto the ^eend of the world.

Matthew 28:20

P.S.  Pictures of graduation and Dream Nights coming soon!