When it's Time

I've told you a couple of times before that this year, for my personal devotions, I've been reading through books I already had on my shelf, rather than going out and buying something new. the first book I read was about faith, and the next one was about trust, and now I'm' reading one on prayer. All three are perfectly timed for this season of waiting/believing/trusting/praying for a house sale.

And every now and then, as I'm sure you can relate to, because I'm sure you have been there yourself, I wrestle with whether or not God is listening/cares/is paying attention/remembers that I have this house request. Let me quickly say that I KNOW the answer to all those things. Of course He does. I've known that truth since I was a kid, and never in any corner of my logical mind, do I doubt that. But sometimes getting my heart to jump on board with that...

So that's the big stuff. Gotta sell a house. But wherever big stuff sits on display, small stuff lurks, and sometimes it's in the small stuff that I learn best.

And that's what happened last week.

Ryan and I went to the grocery store pretty late one evening, came home, got all the groceries hauled inside, and as I put away the bags, Ryan walked through the house with a sad and almost sick look on his face.

Fearing the loss of his wallet, I asked {with total panic}, "Did you lose something?"

He looked at me miserably and said, "My cross. It must have come out of my pocket when I pulled my keys out in the parking lot."

When Ryan worked the retreat a weekend ago, one of the guys there gave him this beautiful smooth wooden cross that fits perfectly in his pocket. He carries it everywhere and it has become something that not only marks the pivotal moments he and God shared that weekend, but also serves as a reminder for him to pray.

I will say that I don't fully grasp why this particular cross means so much to him, but I do know about things being spiritually pivotal in a way that sickens the stomach if they disappear. I've had that before in different seasons of my own life.

He grabbed his keys to drive back to the store to look for that little cross, and as soon as the door shut behind him, I got down on my knees beside the fat chair and straight up begged God to help him find it. And that if it wasn't in the parking lot, that he'd find it wherever it was, even if it was a place he'd already looked twice before.

I employed everything I'd learned so far from that prayer book, and I did not MOVE until my phone buzzed from across the room.

I practically jumped over the ottoman to get to it, and I saw these words: "Found it!"

It was right where he thought it would be - in the middle of the parking lot, resting on wet pavement, and bearing a couple of minor scars from where cars had driven over it in the ten or so minutes it was out of his pocket.

Scarred or not, it was back. And I was so relieved. His faith is boosted in ways I can't fully know by the presence of that little cross in his pocket, and my faith was boosted, because He heard my prayer about a little wooden cross, and He brought it back.

And the biggest lesson I learned was that on that rainy night, we needed to find that cross. If much more time went by, someone else might have picked it up, or it could have cracked under the weight of multiple cars rolling over it. We needed an answer then - really needed it - and it came.

On the flip side, as much as I want to sell our house on this day, I have to remember that my need is still more of a want. When it becomes an urgent need in His eyes, it will sell. Because He really does hear prayers. All of them. Even little prayers about wooden crosses lost in parking lots.