One Pink Toothbrush

Welcome to One Pink Toothbrush, where I will be posting moments from my days as a mum and as a wife. Funny moments, messy moments, thoughtful moments, teary moments.... and hopefully using each moment to see what God might be saying.



Saturday 17 August 2019

Passport Control

Yesterday I lost my passport, well technically that's not true. Yesterday I realised I didn't know where my passport was, so it may well have been lost before yesterday, but I was blissfully unaware of this fact. I'm hoping the husband doesn't read this blog post, because of course he has a designated place for the passports, and when they're finished with, you're meant to put them back in that same place. 

This is called a system, and the system prevents stress and error. This does sound like a wise way of doing life. Then you would know where things were, the next time you needed them; a life skill I've yet to learn in 41 years. My poor husband.

I had used my passport as a form of ID, and instead of returning it back to the designated place, I kept it loosely secure in my bag, with the wipes and various McDonalds toys. That same bag came camping with me, to a recent Youth camp with 7000 people. At this point, you could say that the passport's safety was a little out of control. I was pretty convinced that when we had returned, I had tipped the contents of the bag onto the kitchen table, in search of some pound coins at the bottom of the bag, which ideally should be kept in the my purse...

So I looked on the kitchen table and I looked on the trolley (the unofficial designated holding area for when the table needs clearing) and all there was, was a couple of Snoopy McDonalds toys, an empty purse and a packet of wipes. (We're out of the nappy stage, but no parent is ever out of the wet wipe stage).

So the panic started to set in. "No, no no no no....where are you?" I looked in the bag, I looked on the table, I looked on the trolley. I looked in the bag. I looked on the table. I looked on the trolley. I remembered that quote, "the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results". So I looked in the bag again. I looked on the table again. I looked on the trolley again. I rubbed my head a lot. "No, no no no no". I repeated this cycle for quite a while. 

I remembered one bag which wasn't yet unpacked from the Youth camp. I ran upstairs and emptied the Calpol, the plasters, the wasp spray, the suncream, the wipes...nothing. 

The tears started to form. And the "please help me" prayers started. Quite frantic mumbling. Then the crazy kicked in; I looked in my wardrobe which of course it wouldn't be in. I looked in the bin, which of course it wouldn't be in. I looked in my sock drawer, which of course it wouldn't be in. I looked on the windowsill, which of course it wouldn't be on. I looked in my make up drawer, which of course it wouldn't be in. And there it was. I must have put it there to keep it safe!! (System error)

I cuddled that passport and cried. "Thank you, thank you, thank you", followed by the realisation that I hadn't chatted with God for a while. I had prayed for other people, but I hadn't chatted with Him, and now I was only calling on Him because I needed His help.  He's totally fine with me needing His help. He's the great Helper, Rescuer, Restorer, Saviour. It's only with His help that I can be saved for eternity and not live in the guilt and shame of my wrong doing. But He wants even more for me than that. Even more than that life-saving Help. He wants me to live abundantly, in relationship with Him. And that requires more than just the 'Help me' prayers, even if they are my most consistent prayers.

I said sorry, and with the relief of the passport being found, I found relief in admitting that I had felt a bit lost lately too. Sometimes you have to get to the point of realising something is helplessly lost, in order to realise it needs to be found. Not spending time with the one who loves me the most, the one who understands me the most, the one who cares for me the most, is always going to have an effect on me. Sometimes that effect isn't seen or felt straight away, which gives me the false impression that I'm doing fine on my own, that I know where I am, blissfully unaware of the drift... but actually it just means I'm getting lost, and that's not blissful at all.

My passport is back with all the other passports. It's safe. It's home. The system error has been rectified. And I am reminded again that my errors have all been forgiven. I am secure, safe and easily found in my Father's house, in His presence, in His company, in His love. That is my designated place. 

"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; 
I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand".
Isaiah 41v10

"For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”
Luke 19v10