On Staying Put (Or, Do What Your Mother Says!)

1 Kings 19:9 And he came thither unto a cave, and lodged there; and, behold, the word of the LORD came to him, and He said unto him, “What doest thou here, Elijah?”

Between the ages of four and eight, I lived with my family in the small town of Belgrade, Montana, about 10 miles west of Bozeman. Belgrade had a few stores in which you could buy essentials, but to really go shopping, one had to go to Bozeman, where there were real stores like JCPenney, Montgomery Wards and Sears Roebuck. So it was that, one summer day before I turned six, we went to town. My mother was going to get some dresses at Penney’s while our father went up the street a few blocks to get a haircut. Of course, my brother and I got to stay with our mother.

The ladies’ department was in the basement of the store. There was a wide stairway going down, with a large landing about half-way. We were instructed to sit there quietly while Mom looked at and tried on dresses. She, as one might guess, will state otherwise, but my brother and I maintain to this day that we knew nothing about fitting rooms at the time. So it was that, after sitting quietly for a while and amusing one another, we glanced up to look for her. She was gone!

Thinking rationally was not something my brother had learned in first grade, and I hadn’t been to school yet. So we thought that the best thing to do was to take matters into our own hands. We didn’t start crying. Nor did we trust any of the adults around us (or at least we didn’t think to ask for help). What we did was to agree that we’d better go get Dad and tell him that Mom had disappeared. Up the stairs we went and out onto the sidewalk.

Surely the Lord was watching over us as we tore up the street about four blocks to the barbershop. I’m not sure how we knew where it was. Perhaps we’d been there before: I don’t recall. However, since our father knew we were with our mother, and he had learned about the relationship between time and buying dresses, he was quite shocked to see us burst in the door of the barbershop so soon.

“What are you doing here? Where’s your mother?” he asked. And of course, we were quick to tell him how Mom had disappeared and forgotten us in the store.

The barber finished the haircut as rapidly as he could and, with us in tow, our father headed for the scene of the mystery. I can clearly remember, even to this day more than 50 years later, the expression on my mother’s face as we met her about two blocks down, in a crosswalk in the middle of the street. I don’t know if my mind is repressing something, but I don’t remember any punishment. But I do know that was the last time the two of us got lost while shopping.

There are several things I’ve been able to draw from this experience. First of all, as we teachers deal with the children in our care, we have to remember that little minds don’t always process things the way an adult mind does. Imaginations can leap to conclusions or positions that a mature mind would never consider. Nor do the children have all the experiences and knowledge to draw on when faced with a new, perhaps startling, situation. So compassion and patience are truly necessary on our part.

In his epistles, the apostle John more than once refers to the Christian as a child. This connects with the second thing I’ve drawn from what happened on that day long ago. We still have much to learn in our spiritual lives, and the only truly safe approach is to listen closely to the word of our Heavenly Father. We must learn to trust Him so that, even if we lose sight of Him for a moment, we know that He is still near, and has not abandoned us. When He bids us do something, we should do so, rather than, unthinkingly, take off like wild rabbits, ending up where He has to ask us, “What doest thou here?”

Another thing illustrated by this experience is that when you perceive that you are in danger, head for your Father. And finally, He does love us and watches over us, and accepts us back even when we make big mistakes.

What a great family we belong to!

Dr. G