Three times in the last two days, I’ve completely missed what’s right in front of me. Blatantly and totally oblivious to the thing I’m looking for that is literally sitting right in front of my face.
I was hunting for an envelope that Eric brought me yesterday. It wasn’t with the rest of the pile where I thought it should be. I messaged him to ask. It was sitting beside me at the desk where I work. On the desk. Not six inches from my hands.
Last night, we were at our friends’ house for dinner and bible study. I was putting together plates of spaghetti for my kids. “Do you have parmesan cheese?” I asked. Nate just looked at me funny and then pointed. The bowl was six inches to my right.
This morning, I pulled an SD card from the computer and went searching for the camera it goes with. Checked our tech bag. Looked around the bedroom and the kitchen. Glanced over the bookshelves only to discover it was sitting on my desk, again mere inches from the slot where the card had been. I had to reach over it to get to the back of the computer.
Sheesh.
Reasons
And to be fair, I have good explanations (or excuses, if you prefer). I’m missing what’s right in front of me because
- My mind had already locked its focus.
- I was looking for something different.
- I assumed I already knew what was going on.
I missed the envelope because, in my mind, when Eric handed it to me, I told him to put it with the others. But I didn’t actually do that. I took it with a fluttering thought that it would just be easier if I put it there, instead of trying to describe where it should go to Eric. In my mind, it wasn’t on my desk; it was on the counter. So when I couldn’t find it, I had no idea where it might have gone.
The parmesan cheese was not in the tall plastic tube we usually have. Our friends had hand-grated actual parmesan cheese for our dinner, so it was sitting in a bowl instead. And it was totally yummy. But it wasn’t what I was expecting to find, so I missed it.
And this morning. I assumed. I know that’s never a good idea, but let’s be honest. We make lots of assumptions, every day, because they help us cope with life. They cut down on the amount of information we have to process. And more often than not, they’re more helpful than harmful. Until you reach over the camera, totally blind to it, because you just assumed it was in the camera bag in the bedroom. Sigh.
He’s Right in Front of Me
I don’t really have some deep meaningful point, to be honest.
I’m sure I could add to our general level of guilt (mom-guilt, friend-guilt, spouse-guilty, employee-guilt) with some lecture on not being so distracted and why assumptions are so bad. And those are probably worthwhile ideas to consider.
But mostly, I just wanted to point out that I (and you) are not some sort of monster because I miss things. It’s part of life.
And in reality, nothing was really lost. It was right in front of me all along. And instead of beating myself up for not being perfect, I’m going to be grateful. Not that I missed what was in front of me, but that what I actually needed was also right there.
My husband’s help. Fun with friends. The equipment I need when I need it.
I’m glad that Eric knew right where the envelope was, that we all got a bit of a laugh about my parmesan mistake, and that the camera was right where it should have been.
And mostly, I’m grateful for a God who safely and securely provides all that I need, even when I don’t see him or all that he’s done on my behalf. He knows I’m too focused, looking for something different, or making all kinds of assumptions.
But he’s still right in front of me (and behind me and beside me). He’s still pouring out grace and love and mercy. He’s still bringing others alongside me to help, to pick up the pieces when I fall apart, and to point to the parmesan cheese sitting right beside me on the countertop.
He is what’s right in front of me. And I’m grateful.
