I distinctly remember placing it in a corner, out-of-the-way, in a place where I could easily find it again. But I can’t find it anywhere.
My house is just under 1200 square feet, with a finished basement that is empty. I only go down there to wash clothes and replace the furnace filter, so I know it’s not down there.
The spare room was emptied and completely cleaned before I moved my bedroom furniture into it. The bedroom I was using is now empty. If the attachment was in either of these rooms, it would be easy to spot.
My living room looks like the beginning of a hoarder’s obsession, with all the extra stuff from both bedrooms, piled up everywhere. The plan is to clean my old room and put back only the possessions I plan to keep. So, I check corners, under cabinets, between boxes and chairs, and it’s nowhere.
It’s really starting to make me crazy! I’ve been looking for the last week, and I’ve looked everywhere I can possibly think to look.
Today I’m feeling particularly discouraged. My water heater died, and my feeble attempts to light the pilot light were a failure.
In my desperation and frustration I said, “Lord, PLEASE show me where it is!”
“I’m losing mind, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE help me.”
I have learned a long time ago not to make deals with God. Instead, I rant, rave, beg and whine with all the fervor of a child about to throw a tantrum.
Then I took a deep breath and decided to retrace my cleaning steps, for possibly the twentieth time since I started looking. Okay, my bedroom is the first place I go. It’s not in the corners or the closet.
“Look under the bed,” is the thought that pops to mind.
Seriously? It’s not going be that easy. I don’t want to waste time looking, so I turn around to leave my room.
“Okay, I’ll check but I’m not going to find it,” I think to myself.
I get down on my hands and knees, lift the bed skirt, and there it is under my bed. I stay there for a minute in disbelief. This is not where I distinctly remember putting it because I distinctly remember propping it up in a corner.
I leave my bedroom puzzled about my memory but grateful to finally find it.
Wow! Did God just answer my prayer? Within two minutes of my near hysterical plea, it showed up. This isn’t a coincidence, is it?. The timing was simply too perfect.
I smile to myself and prop the attachment in a hallway corner.
Thank you Lord for answering my desperate, psychotic prayer.