I tend to forget things as I leave the house. It is not unusual for me to make two, even three trips back into the house, up and down the stairs, picking up things I’ll need for the errands I’ve got to run.
Even then, it is often the case that I end up leaving something important behind. I can take special care to pile things up neatly by the door, but it is no guarantee that those items will make it into the car before I leave. All too often I arrive at my destination with the painful realization that my neat little pile has remained behind. I know just where it is, I can visualize it in my mind, but it is not with me.
So it was no surprise that I turned up at a recent meeting without the items I’d intended to bring, namely my diary (calendar) and a little notebook I use to record things I must remember.
I’ve given up chastising myself unduly for these lapses and have learned to carry on without them, trusting instead my fragile memory to deal with upcoming events and responsibilities.
It was in the midst of this church meeting that we were interrupted with someone at the front door of the church.
“I think these belong to you,” she said as she handed me the two forgotten items. “I found them here in the car park.”
I was stupefied to see them, no less so when I realized they had made the short journey to the church atop my car. The foggy bits of my memory began to clear when I recalled that I had indeed made it out of the house with my two books and placed them carefully on top of the car, whilst distracted with a task that needed my attention in the drive.
As has happened many times, I drove off without bringing them into the car.
Needless to say it is remarkable that these two, not unimportant items made it to the church at all. They could easily have fallen into the street and been lost forever. I had my name in both so it is conceivable that some Good Samaritan may have picked up the battered remains from the road and called me, but because they fell off in the church parking lot, they were largely undamaged. They were found by one of our faithful members.
They say that God takes care of His fools, and I am certainly one of them. I have forgotten more things than I care to remember. But, I am grateful for the provision of the saints and the steady hand of the angel who kept my things from flying into the street as I rounded the corner.
Lord, thank you.