Sometime near the first month of school, Oaks checked out this library book. He was fascinated by all the differences between the trainings and missions of our most elite special forces. We read every single possible scenario. Not a page was left unturned.
Then somehow, the book disappeared.
A while back, we got a notice from the library that the book was overdue. So we began the hunt. We emptied the backpacks of all of their frightening contents. We scoured the seat back pockets of the car. We foraged under beds and ransacked every drawer. We combed through the book shelf, looking at every single book.
The book was nowhere to be found.
This week, I got an email from his teacher and a letter from school reminding us about this over-due book. It was now time to send payment to replace the book. It was $29! To my hard-working, money-saving 10-year-old, this was crushing news. He did NOT want to spend $30 of his dollars on a book he didn’t even have. But we had no choice. So I wrote the check, attached it to the note and asked him to give me the moolah. He asked if we could look one more time for the book.
The search was on, once again.
This time, we completely cleared the “junk collection” table at the base of the stairs. You know, the place where mama piles everything that needs to be taken up, and the boys ignore it like it’s not even there. It took some time, but we sorted through every last card, Nerf bullet and Lego, only to discover the book was not there. Much to Oakley’s dismay, he resigned to hand over the cash and be done with it.
Until it was time for bed.
I was in my bathroom, washing my face, when a triumphant Oakley appeared from around the corner. . . holding his library book! It was a bit surreal. Where in the world did you find that?! “It was on the very top of my Lego shelf. I was just playing around in the hall when I happened to look over and see the binding on the edge of the shelf.”
It had been hiding in plain sight, the entire time.
We hugged and danced a little victory jig. Right then and there, I sent him to get the overdue notice and the check. When he returned, I gave him permission to tear them both up with all his might. He quite enjoyed that passionate exercise.
Are you looking for an answer with all your might?
Are you pushing, seeking, stressing, and working as hard as you possibly can, worried that at the end of the day, it won’t be enough? That you won’t find the thing we’re looking for? Are you ransacking your whole life, turning everything upside down in an effort to force it into existence?
Could it be that what you’re looking for is right in front of your eyes?
Maybe you just need to let yourself play around in the hall for a minute to see it.
to more love,