Yesterday morning I went to city hall to get Jack's birth certificate. When the lady at the desk asked for my ID, I reached into my purse and pulled my wallet out to show her my driver's license. A thought suddenly popped into my mind.
"You're going to leave your wallet here."
Or, more precisely,
"If you don't put your wallet back in your purse right now, you're going to leave it here."
No I won't, I thought. I'll be careful! It's on my mind now so I'll pay extra attention to it! Besides, there's no point putting it back since I'll just have to pay with a credit card that'll I have to put back in my wallet and then back in the purse.
While I waited for the certificate, I took Jack out of the stroller since he was fussing and walked around with him, keeping an eye on my wallet and purse on the desk the whole time. When I went back to the desk to move the stroller out of the way for another man, they told me the certificate was ready.
"That'll be 20 dollars," they told me, and I reached for a credit card. "No, we just take cash," so I pulled a bill out instead. They handed me the birth certificate and I was overcome with a flood of memories as I saw the name of the doctor, the time of birth, and Jack's weight at birth. I put him back in the stroller, debated whether I wanted to put the certificate in an envelope or leave it unfolded (I opted for the envelope), and walked the half mile back to where I had found free parking.
Later that day, I claimed a free baby jumper on my ward Facebook page. The owner texted me asking when I'd like to pick it up. I offered to come at 6:30. She offered us s'mores when we came. I offered information that the eclipse was peaking right then, not 6:45 as she'd heard. And then, hours later, as she and her husband were offering us seats at their firepit, I had a thought. Look for your wallet.
And so I did. It wasn't in my purse, but I figured it was in the house, so there was no reason to worry. We had a lot of fun chatting with them and watching kids run around as evening turned to night. Finally, we headed back home only to find that the wallet wasn't there.
"But I had had my wallet on my mind! I was thinking about it that whole time at Vital Records!" I told Kevin. But as I retraced my steps through the day, I realized there was nowhere else it could be but there.
"Well, it's not the worst place to lose a wallet," I thought to myself, but we went through and froze accounts anyway just to be safe. I went to bed feeling incredibly sheepish but also incredibly grateful that I had noticed my wallet was gone. I had no immediate plans to go shopping or even driving, so it could have easily been days before I noticed it was missing. I imagined discovering my wallet was missing at an airport desk and the ensuing panic that would have caused.
Last night and this morning I would glance at the clock and think, "10 more hours before the moment of truth." "25 more minutes before the moment of truth." I called right when Vital Statistics opened, but since it was just an automated message Kevin dropped me off there to ask in person.
"I think I left my wallet," I said, and the woman at the desk smiled and nodded. Within a minute I had it back with all contents untouched. I dropped Kevin off at work and that was that. No harm done.
And it all felt like a miracle to me. It was miracle enough that nothing had been stolen, but I was even more amazed that I had felt prompted to look for the wallet. I didn't deserve that thought, I kept thinking. I didn't deserve my mistake to be covered like that.
Of course, it's strange talking about deserving anything in this context. If cash or credit cards had been stolen, would I have deserved that because of my carelessness? Of course not! But I wouldn't have been surprised by that either depending where the wallet had gotten lost. Regardless of what I deserved, once I made the mistake the outcome was out of my hands.
"This is grace," I kept thinking. "Don't think about it terms of 'deserving.' I didn't deserve either prompting about my wallet. I don't deserve a missing wallet. I don't deserve a stolen wallet. I don't deserve a safe wallet. This isn't about deserving anything. That's not what grace is about. It's just about God giving you something good, about covering your mistakes."
I thought back to Sunday, when Kevin had had to run home last minute to get bread for the Sacrament. I had been cranky all morning for pretty much every reason a mom of 3 little kids whose husband was at a lengthy ward council could be cranky for, and this bugged me too.
"Doctrine and Covenants 27," I whispered to Kevin before he left. "You don't have to go home. We could use animal crackers from the nursery."
He smiled and headed home anyway. I sighed. I was tired of Kevin (and sometimes me) picking up the slack for so many things. I resented the idea of grace if grace meant that people cover other people's mistakes.
However, by the next evening, I was so grateful that grace could cover mistakes. I had lost my pride about my organized mind, and now I remembered that I was just as human as others when it came to forgetting things. Any traces of former impatience ebbed away as I realized I was relying on others' goodness now to get out of a bad situation. It was grace that allowed a turn of events where I was able to sit still for long enough to think about my wallet again, and grace that brought it to my mind again. All I could say for myself is that I had listened.
But what if I hadn't forgotten the wallet? What if I had remembered it even without the prompting? Would grace have mattered then?
I still think it would have. There is always a gap between reality and perfection which can only be filled with grace. When things are running smoothly, it's easier to forget about the grace that's keeping the machine running in the first place, but it's still there. However, sometimes we need reminders to bring it back to the forefront. That's why we we're taught in Ether 12:27 that God gives us weakness. We are expected, even designed to fall short sometimes so that we can feel that sense of helplessness, that realization that we aren't in control. It's in those moments that we have no way forward except to pray.
And that's when we find that God's grace really is sufficient. And He likes to give us good surprises.
"You're going to leave your wallet here."
Or, more precisely,
"If you don't put your wallet back in your purse right now, you're going to leave it here."
No I won't, I thought. I'll be careful! It's on my mind now so I'll pay extra attention to it! Besides, there's no point putting it back since I'll just have to pay with a credit card that'll I have to put back in my wallet and then back in the purse.
While I waited for the certificate, I took Jack out of the stroller since he was fussing and walked around with him, keeping an eye on my wallet and purse on the desk the whole time. When I went back to the desk to move the stroller out of the way for another man, they told me the certificate was ready.
"That'll be 20 dollars," they told me, and I reached for a credit card. "No, we just take cash," so I pulled a bill out instead. They handed me the birth certificate and I was overcome with a flood of memories as I saw the name of the doctor, the time of birth, and Jack's weight at birth. I put him back in the stroller, debated whether I wanted to put the certificate in an envelope or leave it unfolded (I opted for the envelope), and walked the half mile back to where I had found free parking.
Later that day, I claimed a free baby jumper on my ward Facebook page. The owner texted me asking when I'd like to pick it up. I offered to come at 6:30. She offered us s'mores when we came. I offered information that the eclipse was peaking right then, not 6:45 as she'd heard. And then, hours later, as she and her husband were offering us seats at their firepit, I had a thought. Look for your wallet.
And so I did. It wasn't in my purse, but I figured it was in the house, so there was no reason to worry. We had a lot of fun chatting with them and watching kids run around as evening turned to night. Finally, we headed back home only to find that the wallet wasn't there.
"But I had had my wallet on my mind! I was thinking about it that whole time at Vital Records!" I told Kevin. But as I retraced my steps through the day, I realized there was nowhere else it could be but there.
"Well, it's not the worst place to lose a wallet," I thought to myself, but we went through and froze accounts anyway just to be safe. I went to bed feeling incredibly sheepish but also incredibly grateful that I had noticed my wallet was gone. I had no immediate plans to go shopping or even driving, so it could have easily been days before I noticed it was missing. I imagined discovering my wallet was missing at an airport desk and the ensuing panic that would have caused.
Last night and this morning I would glance at the clock and think, "10 more hours before the moment of truth." "25 more minutes before the moment of truth." I called right when Vital Statistics opened, but since it was just an automated message Kevin dropped me off there to ask in person.
"I think I left my wallet," I said, and the woman at the desk smiled and nodded. Within a minute I had it back with all contents untouched. I dropped Kevin off at work and that was that. No harm done.
And it all felt like a miracle to me. It was miracle enough that nothing had been stolen, but I was even more amazed that I had felt prompted to look for the wallet. I didn't deserve that thought, I kept thinking. I didn't deserve my mistake to be covered like that.
Of course, it's strange talking about deserving anything in this context. If cash or credit cards had been stolen, would I have deserved that because of my carelessness? Of course not! But I wouldn't have been surprised by that either depending where the wallet had gotten lost. Regardless of what I deserved, once I made the mistake the outcome was out of my hands.
"This is grace," I kept thinking. "Don't think about it terms of 'deserving.' I didn't deserve either prompting about my wallet. I don't deserve a missing wallet. I don't deserve a stolen wallet. I don't deserve a safe wallet. This isn't about deserving anything. That's not what grace is about. It's just about God giving you something good, about covering your mistakes."
I thought back to Sunday, when Kevin had had to run home last minute to get bread for the Sacrament. I had been cranky all morning for pretty much every reason a mom of 3 little kids whose husband was at a lengthy ward council could be cranky for, and this bugged me too.
"Doctrine and Covenants 27," I whispered to Kevin before he left. "You don't have to go home. We could use animal crackers from the nursery."
He smiled and headed home anyway. I sighed. I was tired of Kevin (and sometimes me) picking up the slack for so many things. I resented the idea of grace if grace meant that people cover other people's mistakes.
However, by the next evening, I was so grateful that grace could cover mistakes. I had lost my pride about my organized mind, and now I remembered that I was just as human as others when it came to forgetting things. Any traces of former impatience ebbed away as I realized I was relying on others' goodness now to get out of a bad situation. It was grace that allowed a turn of events where I was able to sit still for long enough to think about my wallet again, and grace that brought it to my mind again. All I could say for myself is that I had listened.
But what if I hadn't forgotten the wallet? What if I had remembered it even without the prompting? Would grace have mattered then?
I still think it would have. There is always a gap between reality and perfection which can only be filled with grace. When things are running smoothly, it's easier to forget about the grace that's keeping the machine running in the first place, but it's still there. However, sometimes we need reminders to bring it back to the forefront. That's why we we're taught in Ether 12:27 that God gives us weakness. We are expected, even designed to fall short sometimes so that we can feel that sense of helplessness, that realization that we aren't in control. It's in those moments that we have no way forward except to pray.
And that's when we find that God's grace really is sufficient. And He likes to give us good surprises.
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