found frustrated
Why is it that the thing you have lost and have spent ages looking for is always in the last place you look? Yes, I know that by definition it will be in the last place you look! I think my question should be: why is it that when you have lost something important you have to spend ages looking for it: why isn’t it always somewhere easy to find so you can find it really quickly?
| Wouldn’t it be wonderful if our homes had search engines! |
I know that there are differences in the ways that blokes and women look for things. Blokes look on the surface, women look underneath and behind things. Blokes look in the same way that we shop – we have a quick look to see if we can find what we are looking for and if we can’t then we move on. Women look in the same way they shop – methodically going through everything so that they can be sure they have eliminated all possibilities.
You may have gathered that I have lost something (you are SO perceptive). It is something important. And my wife, Sally, is at work at the moment so I am having to resort to desperate measures: I am looking for it myself.
All this looking and searching reminds me of the parable Jesus told in Luke 15. No, not the famous one about the two sons, nor the almost as famous one about the errant sheep. The one about the woman who had lost a coin. It was only 10% of the coins she owned (whether or not they formed part of her dowry is open to debate, and boy is it debated). But the point of the parable is not the identity of what was lost, it is the extent of the search and the overwhelming joy when the coin is found. She throws a party for her friends which, in my imagination, costs more than the coin is worth.
God’s like that. No, not good at losing things, but relentless in his pursuit of us and his joy when we repent and are ‘found’ is seriously exuberant. I need to be found on a regular basis, but God never stops rejoicing when I am. That’s grace for you!
I am going to break the habit of a blogtime and repeat something for you. This poem what I writ seems very apt, but is one I have put on the blog before… sorry for the repeat!
Symbiosis
My wife says I’m a loser
Though my keys aren’t where I leave them
My wife says I’m a loser
I’m inclined to think she’s right.
I don’t know where my things are but
She doesn’t share my plight.
Though my keys aren’t where I leave them
She always finds them there.
Somehow they’re invisible
Despite how hard I stare.
Somehow they’re invisible
Despite how hard I stare.
My mobile phone IS mobile
I’m sure it runs around:
I can look in vain for hours but
In seconds she has it found.
She says I don’t look properly
When I overlook it
And start an inquisition
To find out just who took it.
I’m sure my searching’s thorough:
That I look in the right places
Which is why I get so ratty
In my oh-so frantic chases.
“Where did you last see it?”
She asks me through my bile.
“If I knew I wouldn’t need your help.”
I sulk back like a child.
My wife knows where to start things:
“I’ve already looked there twice”
Means that’s her quest’s beginning
And where she finds the prize.
As I’m reunited with what I lost
And turn off my pressure cooker
I consider it a huge blessing
That I married such a looker.
And turn off my pressure cooker
I consider it a huge blessing
That I married such a looker.
nukelearfishing 
>Sally came home and, after a few minutes of thought suggested where the lost item was. She was right.Point proven – she's a looker.
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