Oct 22 2009
Where Do Library Books Hide?
If my life were a play, the audience would watch me reenact various scenes over and over again. One of those repetitive scenes played out again this morning. The scene could be titled “search for the missing item.” This morning, I searched in increasing irritation for a “library book about dogs,” which is due today but will not be returned, for I could not find it.
I have begun to suspect that library books hide more diligently as they sense my irritation increase. They burrow farther under the covers, improve their camouflage beneath a pile of toys, hide quietly on a random book shelf, and visit rooms they should not.
As I search, I ask myself these questions: Why is this house such a mess? Why do we have so much stuff? Why can’t anyone put anything away? Why am I the only one who can find anything? Sometimes these questions stay in my head and sometimes, I must admit, I ask them loudly.
When I begin to search, my family has learned there are two choices: Search with me or Hide yourself as diligently as the library book. Every member of our family has lost something that I must search for, but none of the others lose things as often, or with as much flare as my eldest child.
Yesterday morning, I asked him where his school binder which contained his agenda, schedule and accompanist music was. He replied,”On the bus.” Now, keep in mind, he had ridden the bus to school the morning prior. However, because of cross country practice, he had not ridden it home.
When questioned as to why his binder was on the bus, he relayed the following tale: His binder kept falling off his seat onto the floor and he got tired of picking it up. So, he left it on the floor and told himself he would pick it up later. The bus arrived at school, he got off the bus, and the binder (hidden from sight in imitation of a library book) stayed on the floor.
So yesterday, I watched Josiah get on the bus and ask the bus driver if she had seen the binder. She shook her head no. I watched him slump into his seat and look at the floor. I watched him sit up without a binder and avoid looking at his mom for fear of the stink eye.
I drove home with this list of instructions of how to find the binder in my head. 1. Look under every seat on the bus. 2. Ask every single kid on the bus if they had seen it. 3. Go to the office and look in every lost and found box. 4. Find a responsible kid to search for you.
The binder was not the only thing he had forgotten that day. He had been given his accompanist dress uniform by the choir director. He placed the uniform next to his back pack on the gym floor and went to cross country practice. Then, after practice, he picked up his backpack and left the uniform behind. Thankfully, a teammate ran the uniform out to the car before we drove off.
So, I prayed as I often do, “Lord, show him grace once again and let someone else find it for him.” This prayer is very effective where Josiah is concerned, for a girl in his class had found his binder and when she got on the bus, she handed it to him.
During the marriage conference last weekend, Dale and I were told, “there are some things that your spouse or your child cannot or will not change.” Dr. Chapman says his wife can only open drawers and doors, and therefore it is his job to close them. Dale and I have finally accepted it is his job to turn on lights and my job to turn off lights. We will no longer argue about lights.
Putting this concept in to practice, I have now come to realize it is my husband and children’s job to lose things and it is my job to find things. Of course, I could do my job more effectively, if I could just discover where library books hide.
