It is Christmas morning and the building excitement is bursting from the seams of our home. Giggles, whispers, and little scampers up and down the stairs can be heard over the brewing coffee and faintly-playing Christmas music. Of all the cherished memories in my life, Christmas mornings rank highly for so many reasons: the fulfilled anticipation, the closeness, the gratitude, the sleepy tantrums, the arguing over toys, the hours spent in the kitchen. Nothing beats it.
A favorite tradition of mine is the stockings. Handmade by my mama to resemble my childhood stockings, ours are red with white cuffs and gold trim. Their long and slender construction allow for some pretty good stuffing. Our little girls' arms can barely reach the bottom without help. Our third daughter, in all her excited two-year-old glory, reached the bottom of her stocking. I can imagine her chubby fingers fishing for the last of her treasures. She pulled out a necklace and squealed! Its chunky and sparkly iridescent beads flanked a pink, rhinestone butterfly. Coupled with a coordinating bracelet, it was her first big girl jewelry set and destined to be a keepsake.
For the past few months, our sweet girl has adorned almost every outfit with the butterfly necklace that is "very special" to her. We chose her bedroom doorknob for its resting place, making it easy to find and difficult to lose. She simply grabs it on the way out of her room on a regular basis, and that shopping day with Mama was no different. It was a bitterly cold and blustery day requiring both of us to bundle up; we accessorized her with boots, a hat, and her coat's hood, not forgetting to slide her favorite necklace around her neck before leaving for our fun outing. The day's temperature and wind kept us both bundled in our winter gear, keeping her butterfly necklace hidden under the layers. I remember telling her to keep it under her coat so it would not get tangled in her car seat straps.
Fast forward to the next day and she asks for her necklace, declaring it cannot be found in its usual resting place. Her panic ensues as my mama investigative skills come to life. Mamas have a special sense of exploring some of the strangest places a toy or favorite necklace can be hiding, but I looked everywhere to no avail. Dresser drawers and kitchen cabinets. Laundry hampers and baby doll strollers. Up and down. Over and under. Nothing. Cue my teary-eyed conversations with my mom. Maybe she dropped it while running errands. Maybe it broke. After she and I returned from our shopping day, she excitedly flew back inside to see her sisters, throwing all her outerwear aside. She left a trail of clothing and accessories strewn behind her, but never once do I remember seeing the necklace.
Before the necklace's hiding place was discovered, I kept interviewing its owner, hoping to hear a nugget of evidence leading to its recovery. During separate interrogations, she said she threw it on the floor in the store. She "remembered" flushing it down the toilet. She thought it broke. Insert facepalm. Our endless discussion failed to jog her memory with any sort of accurate detail. I was forcing her to remember something she did not remember. I kept prompting her with unrelated and unnecessary questioning that proved useless in the quest.
It took a couple days of fruitless hunting before that necklace was found. The three big sisters were entrenched in a game of hide-and-seek upstairs when I heard a piercing shriek echoing down the stairwell. "Myyyy neeeecklace!" Her excitement was uncontrollable and contagious. It was always hereć¼not broken, not lost in a store, or flushed down our toilet. I do not even like her playing upstairs in her big sisters' room, but that is where the necklace was lost AND recovered in an impromptu game between the sisters.
Much to my relief, I had not been instrumental in my daughter losing her necklace during our errands. Much to my dismay, I had not been instrumental in my daughter finding her necklace either. That revelation caused me pause. All too often do I consider myself part of the solution when God is usually prompting me to be still...and to be quiet. My daughter was going to find that necklace under her sister's bed because God was going to lead her to it. He knew she flung it under the bed skirt and He guided her right back there to recover it. He did not need me, and all my frustration, concern, and sadness about her "losing" the necklace were self-made.
Our Father oftentimes calls us to be present and active in situations around us, but He may also need us to be still and quiet so His work and direction can be seen and heard. Our good intentions may be disruptive at the least and harmful at the most. If you keep trying to insert yourself into a family or work conflict, you may be hindering true resolution. Obedience in movement is important; it involves our moving when directed. Obedience in stillness is just as important; it involves our staying put when we feel the urge to move.
The Lord's presence in our lives is not always felt or seen, but it is always there. Maybe you find yourself in a season of waiting and wonder why you cannot see God visibly working around you. Maybe the change you are waiting to see in your life needs to firstly happen in your heart. Maybe the sacrifices you are expecting someone else to make need to be firstly made by you. Maybe the growth you are craving will occur in the journey itself and not the destination. Could it be the necklace you are seeking is not actually lost? Give yourself pause and determine if your stillness is needed more than your movement. After all, the God who parts seas, frees nations, and saves an entire humanity from eternal damnation can move mountains in your life...without your help.
"The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord."
Lamentations 3:25-26 (NIV)
© 2019 Beloved Reflection Media
