Seeing is Believing

This was the view from my car windshield last Tuesday morning. I don't know that I've ever in my life seen a whole rainbow. I had to capture it. I know, not safe, I was driving...but I couldn't pass up the opportunity.

I've always believed in God. It's never really even been a question for me. When people ask me how I know, I never have a concrete answer. I just know. There have been times however, where I've questioned His presence or knowledge of what's happening in my life.

The last few months have been filled with decisions, and I've tried to be prayerful and mindful of the Big Fella as we've made those decisions. Making the move we did truly has felt like the right thing to do for our family, even though we had several stumbles along the way.

Last Tuesday, Steve texted me and asked if I could locate the keys to our trailer. He was heading out of town on Wednesday morning for his annual trek to the desert, and the trailer was part of the plan. Find the keys? Sure, no problem...

Most of our possessions are currently in storage. What's left with us is mostly in boxes in the garage. I spent a few minutes thinking, then looked in the first few boxes that I thought they might be in. No luck. Then, it was time to get the kids, help with homework, go to swim practice, fix dinner, and put the kids to bed.

At about 9:30, I realized I hadn't yet found the keys. Steve would be arriving home shortly from a business trip, and I knew that I was running out of time. I headed back out to the garage, and methodically started peering in boxes. One by one, I opened up boxes, peeked inside, and moved on. As the boxes I had looked through climbed, and the ones remaining dwindled, I began to feel panic. I couldn't even remember putting the keys in a box. Let alone, remember which box they were in.

My panic grew, and I was on the verge of breakdown. Not just because I couldn't find the keys, but just feeling the stress of the past few months cresting inside me. I was done living out of boxes. I was done with the uncertainties that have circled around us the past few weeks. I was just DONE.

With tears welling up in my eyes, I asked for help. Not an "on my knees with full intent" sort of prayer . . . rather one of desperation saying "I need YOUR HELP!"

Not more than a minute later, while still fighting panic and wiping the tears that continued to form, I went to a box. It was a box I had already looked in more than once. It was the bottom box in a stack on top of the refrigerator. I pulled it down and opened it up. I pulled out a bag of light bulbs, some cleaning supplies, and other odds and ends of miscellaneous stuff. I kept going, until I reached the bottom of the box. And there, at the very bottom, in a ziploc bag, were the keys.

I have absolutely no memory of putting the keys in that bag, or putting them in that box. There were other boxes that made far more sense—like the one with our key holder in it, for example.

At any rate, I had found the keys. Steve walked in the door moments later, having absolutely no idea the panic that I had felt just minutes before. I calmly handed him the keys, and said "God answers prayers. That's all I have to say."

This experience has stuck with me all week. I can't stop telling people about it. It's a little piece of proof to me that God is real, and that he cares about each one of us. Whether we're struggling with life-altering decisions, or just trying to find some d*** keys, all we have to do is ask.