It's another camping weekend for the Boy Scout. I love and hate these weekends. As he gains more responsibility in Scouts, he has more to remember and more stuff to take. He used to take money for food; now he's the one bringing the food. This weekend he needed his bike and helmet. He needs his housekey and some cash, just in case.
So I'm trying to train him to make a list that he can print and use and update as needed. But he won't do that. He will never do that. And I should stop worrying that he'll forget something and let him forget it, even if it means all the boys go without breakfast because he doesn't have the eggs. (He'll never forget the chocolate and cheetos so we're OK there. And there are worse things than chocolate and cheetos for breakfast.) I don't really do all that much for him. Sometimes I toss out little reminders. Sometimes because he's running late I'll pack the cooler, but not usually. I do worry about those eggs breaking. Yeah, worrying is what I'm best at.
The other thing I'm trying to get him to understand - unsuccessfully, so far - is that while there are a lot of tasks that can wait till the last minute, if he leaves too many he will be rushed just when he doesn't want to be. But he comes by that trait genetically so I don't guess there's much I can do about it.
Yesterday I asked him to be sure he had all the clothing he needed so we didn't have a laundry emergency. He assured me he did. Yet, 30 minutes before he was to leave, I found him rooting through a pile of laundry that hadn't been sorted yet. What was he looking for? Socks. Not the everyday white socks he wears all the time. The warm hiking socks. There weren't any there; I hadn't seen any for a while. We checked the dirty laundry and they weren't there either. He was getting a little frantic; he doesn't like having cold feet. Then I thought of checking one last place.
Some people will understand the misplaced clothes pile. I don't think I'm the only one who has one of those. It's just clothing that gets into the wrong room - my room - when laundry is being sorted. My pile is kind of big. I was going to get to it tonight, honest! But I figured the socks must have been there.
But when I got to my room to check the pile, I saw the socks - two pairs! - laying neatly on my bed. As if they had been placed there on purpose. But not by me, because I hadn't known they were there. No one else admitted to putting the socks so nicely in that spot. They should have been in the pile. So I handed them to the boy and he went on to pack the next last-minute item.
My life is very easy. I don't have a lot of problems; I have a house where mostly everything works; I don't stay up nights wondering how we're going to pay the light bill; my family is healthy; we have good friends and a good church. But sometimes, when something goes wrong, or even when something just seems uncertain, I wonder what God is doing. I don't mean things like socks going missing; bigger things than that. But we know we are to trust that everything will come right in the end, and to hang tight, even though sometimes - even with an easy life - it's a little hard to do that.
And then God sets your missing socks right in front of your eyes. It's like a little wink or a squeeze of the hand; a little reminder that yes, I'm still here and watching over things, and it will indeed all come right in the end.