6:00 this morning, I was lacing up my shoes with my bag packed for school already. I was excited because I'm seldom ready before 6:20, and after a week of nearly being late, I was finally going to be ready to leave before my dad. Good thing, too
I wanted to be at school early today because I'm doing a bible study on 1 Samuel at 7am.
I pocketed my cell phone, and reached for my wheelchair gloves. They weren't there.
Why weren't they on the back of the couch like always? I purposefully leave them there every night so I don't lose them.
Not having my gloves is like not having my shoes, only worse. I don't eat with my feet when they're black with grime.
Where were they? Last night, I got home and I peeled them off my hands in front of my bed. Because I'd been exhausted, I threw them on the center of the bed, next to the blue-with-white-polka-dots body pillow I sleep with.
I never took them off my bed when I cleaned it off last night.
I must've slept on them all night.
Bull.
"God, help me find them, please," I said under my breath, jerking at the blankets.
"Maybe you left them in the car."
"That's not posssible, I know I threw them on the bed last night. I can picture them right there."
"It couldn't hurt to go look on the floor of the car."
"THEY ARE NOT IN THE CAR. THEY WERE ON MY BED. I PROBABLY KNOCKED THEM UNDERNEATH THE BED, OFF EITHER SIDE."
Heaving my couch sideways, I poked my head under the bed. Lots of dust, and oh, hey, my headphones. I was wondering where they went.
"Why would your wheelchair gloves be under your couch? Get your coat on so you can go check the car. It's a little cold out."
I picked up my white jacket, sliding it onto my shoulders. "What if they got stuck in the blanket--or the pillows? Maybe they're in one of the pillowcases???"
After a quick ruffling of the covers, I caught sight of the clock. 6:22. I was running out of time. Any minute now, my dad would call up the stairs to see if I was ready to walk out the door yet. Delay more than that, and I'd be late to the bible study--I don't have Andrew's number, how am I going to tell him I'm going to be late? What if he goes somewhere else in Webb and I have to look for him? Ugh, so much for being early.
"I can't go to school without my gloves." I told myself; my dad would have to wait for me to find them. Funnily enough, he hadn't noticed the time yet.
"God, help me calm down and retrace my steps. They're here somewhere."
"You never checked the car."
"Whatever. I don't see them. I'm just going to make do. I've got old gloves lying around. They'll work. Between all my old ones, I've got a decent right and left." Thus began the process of cluttering my room more, as progressively older gloves flew around. "God, show me which glove to grab, which one is in best condition. It's 6:30, God, please. Don't make me go without gloves."
"Praise God in all circumstances. It's in Thessalonians."
"Okay God, thanks for giving me old pairs of gloves I could wear when I need them," I sighed, "I'm gonna find those gloves this afternoon. No doubt."
Trey woke up and opened his door, wearing basketball shorts and his green Dicks Sporting Goods shirt. "Hey man, wha's up?"
"Eh, lost my wheelchair gloves. I think I slept on them. No idea where I kicked them."
"It's all good man, are these the ones?" he handed me an old ragged pair I had tossed somewhere.
"No, but I'll take them," I rammed them into my coat pocket. "See ya man."
"Have a good day man!" Trey said.
"I'll try. No wheelchair gloves, remember?"
"No, there is no try, there is only do!"
"Ok, Yoda."
I slumped downstairs and told my dad I was ready. Walking to the car, I dropped my backpack in the backseat, and started fumbling in the bag for the almost finished wheelchair glove I'd been sewing the past few days. Even it if ended up looking bad, I was going to finish that one yellow glove in the pale on-off light of the streets lights still on and the rising sun somewhere behind me.
"Check the floor for your gloves."
Feeling around at my feet, before buckling up, I found them on top of the floormat. There they were!
I pulled the old grungy gloves out of my coat pocket, and something dawned on me. The whole morning, I'd been angry because I couldn't find my gloves and was prepared to settle for this cruddy, worn-to-nothing no-good pair of gloves instead of the new, perfect, awesome gloves God had in store for me.
We don't always remember how much God cares for us, how he knows our needs, and he provides them. Before we were born, God knew us, and he'd already planned the life we could live to glorify him most. He's never going to let us down.
God spoke to me this morning, and it took me losing my ability to roll properly for me to hear it. God wants to clothe us in a new robe and call us by name, if we will just hear what He has to say.
I couldn't believe I had let something as trivial as a pair of gloves get in the way of my walk with God. Lost gloves did not affect my salvation, and I would survive without them if I had to. God knew my needs, and he answered my prayer this morning. All I had to do was listen.
I texted Trey that I found them in the car, and his answer was right, coming from him and in some ways, coming from God: "Haha I told you! About the good day that is!"
