Well, I didn’t expect that.
The bucket was bulging, overflowing with bill statements and invoices, check stubs and so many receipts. The paperwork had become paralyzing – not the doing it, but rather the what to do with it once it was done – and the swollen container reflected my equally poor filing system.
I confess, I hold an unfounded fear of the paperwork police. I worry the IRS is going to audit ages after and the mortgage company is going to ask us prove our existence all over again. As a result if a paper looks at all important, I tend to keep it. And so we had papers, everywhere.
I sat cross-legged across the room, doing my duty of entertaining the cat while my husband sorted, filed, and liberally let things go. In no time at all the trash was crammed and a shred pile stacked, and as we emptied each one we were both filled with a growing sense of satisfaction.
But still, I didn’t expect that.
He came across the medical bills from that time he cracked his collarbone. And then the insurance check stub from that accident I was in on the highway – I had nearly forgotten them both. He found the statements from that college loan we paid off before our baby came, and the receipts from when we’re forced to finance insulating our old, cold house. I’d forgotten those things too, but he found them. He found it all.
He found evidence of those times when we didn’t know how things would work out, but they did. Of those moments when life could have turned out much worse, but it didn’t. He uncovered a paper trail of bills paid, and injuries healed. Of home repairs, and car maintenances and everything in between. A history of all the worries that we have worried and all our concerns that have been carried.
And I didn’t expect to find that. But I should have.
This week may you also be reminded. May you be relieved of your worry long enough to see how your concerns are being carried. May you discover that trail of evidence that directs you to the reality of His enduring faithfulness, protection, and peace.