For nearly a week, my keys were missing-in-action. I searched for them in all the usual places and in some unusual places as well. I enlisted my husband's help. Still, no keys. I prayed about it but didn't truly believe that Heavenly Father would trouble Himself over such a minor matter.
One night, I prayed again, went to bed, and awoke the next morning with the intent to listen. I spent nearly an hour in bed, doing just that. Listening. The words appeared in my mind: Look in your coat pocket.
My coat pocket? It was the middle of April, and I rarely wore a coat. Why should my keys be in my coat pocket? Then I remembered. I had been out early one morning and slipped on my winter coat to combat the chill.
Hardly daring to hope, I climbed out of bed and went to the front closet. I slipped my hand in one pocket. No keys. I did the same with the second pocket, and there they were, waiting for me.
The incident was a small one in many ways, but it served as a reminder to listen after I pray. How many times do I pray (in a rather perfunctory manner), then go about my business without paying attention to what the Father is trying to tell me? Too often, I'm afraid.
So, for today, I am grateful for the reminder to listen ... and for the Father's constant watchful care.
What a neat story. I especially liked the part where you said you listened for that hour.
ReplyDeleteBTW, your blog post says April 17 instead of 27.
Hey, you found your keys! Who cares what the date is?!?!
ReplyDeleteWe were praying once to find Jenny's favorite Pooh Bear. Days, and many tears later, I followed a similar prompting, and there he was. Oh, the joy! In my case, however, I realized that I had been prompted to look in that very place several times before, but I had ignored the urging. I felt so foolish, knowing that I could have prevented so much sadness and frustration if I had only listened the first time.
I am so grateful, though, that Heavenly Father chose that way to try to teach me the lesson of listening the first time. I hope I learn it.