I did it. Finally. It took 5 days. One full work week. A bit more actually, if you count the fact that I was not alone. The man-hours of others were included in the search. We combed through the whole house at least three times. Me. Chris. Nathan. April. Cailyn. Even Mom called out suggestions and assurances. All to no avail. Then yesterday I was endowed with renewed vigor. Once again I was determined to be successful in completing this task that was rapidly approaching designation as a hopeless case. But no. It was not impossible. There had to be attainment somewhere.
Grabbing a small flashlight (For I have seen many episodes of CSI. All the officers carry one, I assume to force their eyes to look only in one place at a time, to focus), I started in the hall closet, a favorite hiding place for bodies as well as valuables. Nothing. I then moved into the Yellow Room and systematically dismantled and restored. I went through every single crack and crevice, though admittedly there are not nearly as many as there were before our Hurricane Ike restoration project. Nothing. Next I went into the Blue room and did the same. Much dust. Some small bits of discarded candy wrappers. Nothing more. Next was the Green Room. At least I think that is the color designation. I confess color is not my strong suit. Still nothing. Another closet. Nothing. And the large wlk-in. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Waves of discouragement swept over me, threatening to destroy any remnants of shattered hope that might remain intact in my psyche. Why not give up now? Why not forget the whole thing? Why not move on to more profitable ventures? But no. I could not. I dared not. I must complete the mission. I must.
So I decided to return to the scene of the crime again – for about the sixth time. Into the office. Last known location had been the bookcase near the desk. The waves of despair began to well up once again, but once again I fought back, struggling to maintain focus. Think positively. Eyes on the goal. Fighting back an urge to argue with myself for searching even in places that would have been impossible to access, I began at the top shelf, pulling out book after book and returning them to their designated spot. Shelf one. Old Testament commentaries. Nothing. Shelf two. Transition to New Testament commentaries. Nothing. Shelf three. By this time I was losing concentration a bit. More commentaries. 2 Corinthians. Galatians. Fruit of the Spirit. Wonder what information might be in that one I could use? By that time I was about eye level to a three year old. That Fruit of the Spirit book continued to intrigue me, so losing all focus, I reached in to remove it. Couldn't get a very good grip on it, though. Kept slipping from my fingers. So I knelt down to get a better grip. And … there they were. Neatly compacted and tucked in tightly just above the Fruit of the Spirit and in between Galatians and Ephesians. The missing keys. Eureka. I had found it.
Perhaps I could speak of an overwhelming sense of euphoria. Perhaps I could say I leapt to my feet and danced a jig in utter joy at the accomplishment. Perhaps. But instead I repeat only what actually occurred. I sighed a long, slow exhale. I spoke in a voice just above normal range, "Chris, I found them." And it was enough. She heard and asked where and agreed that we should have seen them sooner, for after all, they were at just the right height. No bells and whistles. Just a sigh. A quiet sense of satisfaction. Of relief. Well, I did text Nathan and April right away. And maybe when Cailyn gets here I'll pick her up and swing her around and dance down the hallway to music neither of us will be able to hear. Sounds like a plan.
Hebrews 5:11-14 says, "We have much to say about this, but it is hard to explain because you are slow to learn. In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God's word all over again. You need milk, not solid food! Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil."
Father, thanks for guiding me to those keys. A silly thing, I know, but small successes have always inspired me to try greater things. Amen.
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