A Teenager's Wallet, God, and Enjoying the Huckleberries

"Lord, You are the creator of heaven and earth. You are in control of all things. You know all things. I need to find this wallet."

On October 10, a Facebook friend posted a sermon from Tim Mackie (of The Bible Project). I won't recap the entire sermon, but he speaks throughout of "seeing or enjoying the huckleberries." In the context of the sermon, this means allowing God the Holy Spirit to show us His work in action and seeing God's work through life experiences and not just (but not tossing aside) meditating on the text. This means, rather simply, that we can develop our relationship with our Creator and begin to know Him, not just know about Him. We can see His hands at work and not just read about His works.

I commented on the post, "He’s hitting on so many things I’ve been mulling lately. Still don’t have my mind and heart wrapped around it, but it’s definitely marinating right now." This was true. However, about 30 days later, I had a "huckleberries" moment I haven't been able to shake.

On Wednesday morning, November 9, I said goodbye to my youngest daughter, Gabrielle (a.k.a. Gabi) as her friend picked her up to head to school. I flickered on and off the outside lights as is our tradition to say goodbye for the school day. Almost 40 minutes later, as I was preparing to, literally, enter the shower, my phone buzzed with a text message from Gabi.

"I’m so sorry but I think I dropped my wallet at McDonald’s (the one by Walmart). I can’t find it I’m so sorry."

I texted back and asked her to call McDonald's to see if anyone found it. I didn't know if it was lost inside or outside. I didn't know if she laid it on the car roof and it was in the middle of the road somewhere. We had ourselves a "needle in the haystack" situation.

I took a quick shower. Mumbling and angrily scrubbing my head in frustration. Moving more quickly than usual.

The phone rang. Gabi is crying. She can't get in touch with McDonald's via her phone inside the school. It keeps cutting in and out. She's also cutting in and out with me. There is a great deal of background noise as school is starting and the intercom is blaring. A teacher is asking Gabi what is wrong. Meanwhile, on the other end of the call, I am feeling my blood pressure escalate.

(Internal monologue) "Why did they have to go all the way to the other side of town to get coffee before school ... Doesn't she know how much of a pain it's going to be to replace her license ... she JUST got that license, too ... her debit card ... hope someone hasn't picked it up ... hope all of that money is still in the bank ... doesn't she realize what a pain it's going to be to cancel that card ... to get a new one ... ."

I quickly get dressed, shave my head and face with the electric razor, angrily tell my wife goodbye and leave the house on my way to the opposite end of town.

As I'm traveling "the back way" up N 350 W towards W 300 N turning into 36th St., I am full-on anxious/fuming. I feel a prompt to pray about this. 

"Lord, You are the creator of heaven and earth. You are in control of all things. You know all things. I need to find this wallet."

That was pretty much it. I've wrestled with how to pray. How to talk to my Creator. How to properly address Him. What to ask Him. What to request. Does God hear the prayers of one "for such a worm as I." I intelluectually know He's accepted me through Jesus' sacrificial death on a cross. I know Jesus says "no penalty." I know He stands in my place. I know. 

In this moment, however, this is what I could muster. Was this a lesson God was teaching me? Would the answer to the prayer be "no, man, it's just lost and now you have to learn patience and do all this stuff."

We're in a strange season of life. Our kids are "old enough to know better, but still too young to care," as an old country song proclaims. They need Shannon and I, but they kind of ... don't. We struggle with how much rope to allow them and hope they don't hang themselves — knowing sometimes that's how life's lessons are learned. In my role at church, we were in crunch time of the biggest project I've ever led as our Tell City Campus was getting ready to launch that very week. For me, it's a self-induced pressure cooker of sorts in my soul at that moment. In fact, the entire year has been one we'd rather skip over when we look back on the book of life's memories. Covid hit Shannon and I in February. The illness, itself, wasn't any fun, but the mental toll on us, especially Shannon, was truly unexplainable to almost everyone unless you lived in our heads (or our counselor who has been walking alongside us for a few years). It's the closest we've come to a real-deal breaking point in every real sense. Without opening a vein here and bleeding all the details of our lives, the last few years have been intense. I could not even really count the ways here. However, from huge life changes beginning to a global pandemic that exposed some very real flaws in our children's worldviews (and, really, our parenting) to so much more, it's not been a great time. Our counselor has helped us in tremendous ways and we've had great familial and friend support, but ... yeah.

It seems a just-arrived-from-Amazon-dot-com pink wallet with a brand-new driver's license being lost may be the thing that pushes old man D. Ross over the edge.

My prayer about this wallet was, perhaps, the most honest thing I've ever asked God, in perhaps the most honest and straight-forward way I've ever asked anything.

I drove the last mile or so in silence. I pulled into the Walmart/McDonald's drive, keeping an eye out for anything resembling a teenage girl's wallet. 

No dice.

I turn left into the McDonald's parking lot. Still nothing. I pull into the first open parking space I can find immediately to the right of the entrance. I put the old maroon Jeep Grand Cherokee with a dented right front fender and 192-plus thousand miles on it in park and sigh. I open the door, step out of the vehicle, and look down on the ground directly in front of me.

Next to an outdoor trash receptacle lay a pink wallet with a cartoon rabbit decked out in astronaut regalia. A flying saucer is nearby with the word, "Hello" emblazoned in light purple.

That word, "Hello," might as well have been from Jesus, Himself.

I pick it up and can't help but laugh — kind of loudly, actually. I kind of can't stop openly laughing, like a kid who's just seen Ronald McDonald for the first time, for a few minutes. On the outside, I probably looked a bit like a maniac. 

I take a photo of it back in the Jeep and send it to Gabi who effuses thanks and apologies. Etc. Etc.

I (out loud, in the parking lot) thank God for His mercy on me and for answering my prayer. I think back to the huckleberries story.

As I recount this to our counselor later that day, Shannon tells him "I believe God knew Daniel needed a break today. He's got a lot on him."

That may be it, but it's something I've stewed on for two months now. 

God is inviting me (and you) into a relationship with Himself. I know this. I've got the lingo and the doctrine down ... but I'm not sure how often I allow myself to actually experience God in my life.

I'm stridently not a Charismatic. I could rant fairly endlessly and your eyes could glaze over. So much charismatic doctrine is so far off and, frankly, kinda dangerous, in my opinion. My charismatic brothers and sisters are still my brothers and sisters in Christ, but we're definitely on opposite ends of the spectrum.

I'm realizing this (over) focus on correct doctrine may not be wrong, but it's not necessarily right either. Their (over) focus on experience and dismissal of doctrine isn't necessarily right either. The Wallet Incident of November 2022 helped bring some clarity on this into my life.

Our Creator is a personal God, not just one I can read about and understand abstractly. I need a both/and approach. Personal experience and doctrinal understanding. Not either/or.

Somewhere along N 350 W, I bluntly laid myself on the proverbial floor of God's presence. The God of heaven and earth. The God of Abraham, Issac, and Jacob. The God of Scripture answered my plea for a lost teenager's wallet. He gave me a break. He helped me experience a bit of unrestrained joy. Not just because the wallet was found, I know. But, He gave me that one that Wednesday morning.

God really loves me. God really loves us.

That morning, I saw some huckleberries I'm not sure I will forget anytime soon.