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When in search of it, look everywhere and say a prayer

When I got up from the dining room table to go look for it, I was pretty sure I knew exactly where to find it. I went directly to the desk in the laundry room where I'd put all the stuff from my bedroom floor, including it.

I scattered doodads and this-n-thats around the desk top, shuffled a stack of papers, opened the drawers and doors, and looked under widgets. Then I scooted everything from the left side of the desk to the right and vice versa.

Thinking it over, I remembered seeing it on my bedside table at some point. Yet neither the books on deck nor the ones in a holding pattern nor the collection of already read missiles gave it up. Growing frantic and frustrated, I flung open the nightstand drawers and inspected the contents. I closed the drawers and opened them again, expecting to see it; I did not.

Stooping to lift the bed skirt, I bravely slid my hand as far as I dared into the darkness, fumbling for anything that felt like it. It was nowhere. So I went back to the laundry room and dug down into the bottom of the sock basket. Why it would be there, I don't know, but if it was nowhere, that meant it could be anywhere.

Now flitting wildly, I approached my husband's side of the bed. Getting down on my knees, I took a deep breath and grappled in the unknown again. A desperate knot formed in my chest. My hands anxiously rubbed together. Finding myself in a position for prayer, I fervently requested: Dear Lord, please help me find it. Show me where it is. Tell me where to look. Please.

Standing, I stopped for an answer, but I lacked patience. My desperate unraveling of the domicile continued. Nothing escaped scrutiny; the space between the wall and the washing machine, the refrigerator produce drawer, nor the top shelf of the pantry. Finally, I was back in the laundry room, looking at the desk, looking under it, looking behind it, stirring everything on top of it.

Flickers of doom licking at my thoughts, I sent out a Facebook plea: What do you do when you've looked everywhere for it, but still can't find it?

First suggestion: Go back to the last place you looked. That's where everybody finds it.

I revisited the laundry room. Clearly, I was going to need "everybody" to come find it, because I couldn't.

Second suggestion: Might be a sign that it should remain missing.

Nope. Not it. I needed it. Everything depended on it.

Third suggestion: Buy a new one.

Couldn't. It was irreplaceable.

Fourth suggestion: Check the car.

If it was in my car, I might never find it.

Fifth suggestion: It's usually exactly where you think it is. You're just not recognizing it.

This time I looked for something other than it; something that might be it if I wasn't expecting it to look like what it always has before. It didn't materialize.

Bewildered, I quit the search and went back to the dining room table, despairingly plopping into a chair. What will I do without it? I mourned.

Like a miracle, hope glimmered. Could that be it? I stretched my fingers toward . . . Grease my knees and fleece my bees. Yes! I found my missing piece!

Now that I've got it, I don't need it anymore. At least that's what I thought, until it occurred to me that if God would answer an insignificant prayer about it, imagine what else he would do for me.

Lucy Adams is the author of Tuck Your Skirt in Your Panties and Run. She lives in Thomson. E-mail her at and visit

Web posted on Thursday, September 01, 2011

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