A Prayer Answered Three Ways
Today was one of those days when I experienced the tender mercies of the Lord, and I've decided to share. Often when I experience a direct answer to prayer, it's a special personal experience that I keep private. But for whatever the reason, I feel like I should share this one. Maybe someone else out there needs a booster to their faith, I don't know. Maybe I just need to document it for myself later, when doubts attack.
The story actually starts back in July. (That's a tough thing. Figuring out where a story really starts.) Our family tries to make weekly (or least bi-weekly) trips to the library-- how else would I satisfy my reading fix? I definitely don't have a book budget that large. Well, our teensy library was finally getting a brand new building this summer, and at the end of July, the little hole in the wall branch was closing so they could pack up and move to the new place. The librarians couldn't tell us when they would be ready to re-open at the new place, but they guessed about the middle of August. I fretted about having enough reading material to last that long (and Terence needed enough audio books for work shifts), but the librarians told me to just check out as much as we wanted and not worry about anything going overdue, just keep it until the new place was ready for us. So we did-- maxing out on audiobooks and beefing up on a full slate of books for everyone but M (who was busy reading Corizen and didn't think she would need anything else). My biggest concern was keeping track of all the books for that long. For anyone who has kids, you probably know what I mean. Library books seem to be the favorite food of the same gremlins who steal socks, and the best chance I have of avoiding lost books is a quick turnaround. The worst part is that replacing library copies is usually astronomically expensive. Those library bindings turn a $15 book into $40. The last thing I needed was for our library to reopen only for half our checkouts to be missing, translating into a major purchase.
Imagine then how I felt when the library reopening was delayed until September. We went more than a month without a library trip, which around here is almost as bad as trying to go a week without a trip to Walmart. I was climbing the walls for lack of new reading material. I'd even bitten the bullet and paid for a couple of ebooks. I was re-reading stuff. I even made it through some 300 pages of Plato. Terence was grumbling about re-listening to his audiobook stash. But worst of all, the books we had checked out had something like 6 weeks to migrate to the hidden corners of the house and join the gremlin banquet tables.
We made our first trip to the new library within a couple of days of its opening. To my relief, we were able to find all of the books and CD's except two. But those two worried me. One of them was mine, which it very unusual! One of them was a graphic novel that J had checked out and I knew I had seen recently, but though we all hunted high and low, it was nowhere to be found. (The kids are extra motivated to find missing books, since a library trip with all books returned means a trip to Sonic during happy hour for slushes.) Anyway, I renewed the books and hoped that I would find them before our next trip.
Fast forward two weeks to today. J's book had turned up last weekend (inside his cardboard Steve head from his Minecraft Halloween costume-- it's always baffling where missing books get stashed). But my book-- not a whisper. Worse, I was missing another one of my most recently checked out books. Hunting high and low had not done me a bit of good.
Now to get to the tender mercy-- I'm always telling the kids to pray for help with their problems, that Heavenly Father is listening and that He always answers. What kind of parent would I be if I didn't practice what I preach? I've had plenty of experience with praying for help finding things that I've lost, and I've learned a couple of things. 1) The faith of children is amazing. When I am struggling to believe (not that Heavenly Father can answer, but that He cares enough about my petty little struggles to bother), my kids can exercise powerful faith on my behalf. 2) The Lord expects me to do my part. I have to work hard to try to find what I am missing, while following any inspiration that strikes, no matter how unlikely it seems. 3) Sometimes the answer is still going to be no. (My much prayed-over set of car keys a few years back, for example. I still miss the door remote, though it probably wouldn't work now anyway.) Well, putting this experience into practice, I asked J during our morning family prayer to ask for help in finding the lost library books. J did so, and then once the older kids were at school, S and I tackled the work part.
I was diligent about cleaning up neglected corners in hopes that I would find the book in a pile of clutter. The office is now clean enough for me to relax in! I didn't find either of my missing books in the office, but while I was making trips carrying clutter from the office to put away, I was struck by some inspiration. Our laundry room flooded last week, and when Terence had to move the dryer to fix things, he had scooped everything on top of the dryer into a trash bag and set it aside. I had assumed it was all clothes in the bag (and had been planning to go through it when I had a free minute), but what if . . . I pulled out the bag and poked through it. Eureka! One of the library books, the one I checked out two weeks ago. First answer to the prayer, though I still had the other book--the one that had been missing for ages-- to find. My next best guess was that the book was in my room. I checked various shelves and then I decided to pull things out from under my bed. It's hard for things to get under there-- we have the extra flooring sheets and closed storage containers down there-- but sometimes a book I was reading in bed falls and gets accidentally shoved under.
No luck. I couldn't see any books anywhere, but while I was down there I decided to sweep out a section of miscellaneous stuff that had worked its way in between the storage. The next tender mercy was one I hadn't even asked for. It was a reimbursement check, one that had been missing for two months, one that I was sure I had deposited and the bank had lost somehow. (We still hadn't worked out how to fix it.) But somehow that check had ended up shoved way under my bed, and I never would have found it if I hadn't been looking for the missing library book.
My next inspiration was to move M's social studies project (it's a model of Jamestown) and dig through my pile of Primary paperwork. Now my hopes weren't high here-- I had just gone through this paperwork two weeks ago and there were no books hiding in it then-- but remember the rule about following the inspiration, no matter how unlikely? So I did it anyway. While I was doing so, I spotted a tower of my own books that I had re-read during my weeks of desperation and had meant to reshelve. They had been hidden by M's project, which has taken up residence in my bedroom for quite awhile. In the middle of the stack I found the last missing library book, answer number three. S was right there to celebrate with me and we immediately had a prayer together to thank the Lord for helping us find the books and the check.
Was it a miracle? I think all answers to prayers are miracles. Was it dramatic? Maybe not to an outsider, but to me, it was a strong reminder that my Heavenly Father loves me, He listens to me, and I matter to Him, even with my insignificant problems.
Tender mercies.
The story actually starts back in July. (That's a tough thing. Figuring out where a story really starts.) Our family tries to make weekly (or least bi-weekly) trips to the library-- how else would I satisfy my reading fix? I definitely don't have a book budget that large. Well, our teensy library was finally getting a brand new building this summer, and at the end of July, the little hole in the wall branch was closing so they could pack up and move to the new place. The librarians couldn't tell us when they would be ready to re-open at the new place, but they guessed about the middle of August. I fretted about having enough reading material to last that long (and Terence needed enough audio books for work shifts), but the librarians told me to just check out as much as we wanted and not worry about anything going overdue, just keep it until the new place was ready for us. So we did-- maxing out on audiobooks and beefing up on a full slate of books for everyone but M (who was busy reading Corizen and didn't think she would need anything else). My biggest concern was keeping track of all the books for that long. For anyone who has kids, you probably know what I mean. Library books seem to be the favorite food of the same gremlins who steal socks, and the best chance I have of avoiding lost books is a quick turnaround. The worst part is that replacing library copies is usually astronomically expensive. Those library bindings turn a $15 book into $40. The last thing I needed was for our library to reopen only for half our checkouts to be missing, translating into a major purchase.
Imagine then how I felt when the library reopening was delayed until September. We went more than a month without a library trip, which around here is almost as bad as trying to go a week without a trip to Walmart. I was climbing the walls for lack of new reading material. I'd even bitten the bullet and paid for a couple of ebooks. I was re-reading stuff. I even made it through some 300 pages of Plato. Terence was grumbling about re-listening to his audiobook stash. But worst of all, the books we had checked out had something like 6 weeks to migrate to the hidden corners of the house and join the gremlin banquet tables.
We made our first trip to the new library within a couple of days of its opening. To my relief, we were able to find all of the books and CD's except two. But those two worried me. One of them was mine, which it very unusual! One of them was a graphic novel that J had checked out and I knew I had seen recently, but though we all hunted high and low, it was nowhere to be found. (The kids are extra motivated to find missing books, since a library trip with all books returned means a trip to Sonic during happy hour for slushes.) Anyway, I renewed the books and hoped that I would find them before our next trip.
Fast forward two weeks to today. J's book had turned up last weekend (inside his cardboard Steve head from his Minecraft Halloween costume-- it's always baffling where missing books get stashed). But my book-- not a whisper. Worse, I was missing another one of my most recently checked out books. Hunting high and low had not done me a bit of good.
Now to get to the tender mercy-- I'm always telling the kids to pray for help with their problems, that Heavenly Father is listening and that He always answers. What kind of parent would I be if I didn't practice what I preach? I've had plenty of experience with praying for help finding things that I've lost, and I've learned a couple of things. 1) The faith of children is amazing. When I am struggling to believe (not that Heavenly Father can answer, but that He cares enough about my petty little struggles to bother), my kids can exercise powerful faith on my behalf. 2) The Lord expects me to do my part. I have to work hard to try to find what I am missing, while following any inspiration that strikes, no matter how unlikely it seems. 3) Sometimes the answer is still going to be no. (My much prayed-over set of car keys a few years back, for example. I still miss the door remote, though it probably wouldn't work now anyway.) Well, putting this experience into practice, I asked J during our morning family prayer to ask for help in finding the lost library books. J did so, and then once the older kids were at school, S and I tackled the work part.
I was diligent about cleaning up neglected corners in hopes that I would find the book in a pile of clutter. The office is now clean enough for me to relax in! I didn't find either of my missing books in the office, but while I was making trips carrying clutter from the office to put away, I was struck by some inspiration. Our laundry room flooded last week, and when Terence had to move the dryer to fix things, he had scooped everything on top of the dryer into a trash bag and set it aside. I had assumed it was all clothes in the bag (and had been planning to go through it when I had a free minute), but what if . . . I pulled out the bag and poked through it. Eureka! One of the library books, the one I checked out two weeks ago. First answer to the prayer, though I still had the other book--the one that had been missing for ages-- to find. My next best guess was that the book was in my room. I checked various shelves and then I decided to pull things out from under my bed. It's hard for things to get under there-- we have the extra flooring sheets and closed storage containers down there-- but sometimes a book I was reading in bed falls and gets accidentally shoved under.
No luck. I couldn't see any books anywhere, but while I was down there I decided to sweep out a section of miscellaneous stuff that had worked its way in between the storage. The next tender mercy was one I hadn't even asked for. It was a reimbursement check, one that had been missing for two months, one that I was sure I had deposited and the bank had lost somehow. (We still hadn't worked out how to fix it.) But somehow that check had ended up shoved way under my bed, and I never would have found it if I hadn't been looking for the missing library book.
My next inspiration was to move M's social studies project (it's a model of Jamestown) and dig through my pile of Primary paperwork. Now my hopes weren't high here-- I had just gone through this paperwork two weeks ago and there were no books hiding in it then-- but remember the rule about following the inspiration, no matter how unlikely? So I did it anyway. While I was doing so, I spotted a tower of my own books that I had re-read during my weeks of desperation and had meant to reshelve. They had been hidden by M's project, which has taken up residence in my bedroom for quite awhile. In the middle of the stack I found the last missing library book, answer number three. S was right there to celebrate with me and we immediately had a prayer together to thank the Lord for helping us find the books and the check.
Was it a miracle? I think all answers to prayers are miracles. Was it dramatic? Maybe not to an outsider, but to me, it was a strong reminder that my Heavenly Father loves me, He listens to me, and I matter to Him, even with my insignificant problems.
Tender mercies.
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