Call me, again

It’s a good thing I don’t get that many calls on my cell phone. I only lost it once this trip. (We’re on our way home from Colorado today, and made it to Lincoln, NE.) I’m forever misplacing it and asking Denis to call me so I can trace the ring. I panicked thinking I’d dropped it in one of the many restrooms I visit along the way. Denis called me three times and I could hear it, but couldn’t find it even though I was frantically tearing the car apart. My ringtone is a canyon wren birdcall and after dumping my purse twice, feeling under the seat, and checking my computer bag, the bird was also frantic. Turned out I was sitting on it the whole time.

This was a wonderful trip. Celebratory, restful, reflective. Together we recalled many times throughout the years when God spared us, shed grace on us, despite our bumbling around as husband, wife, parents, in our ministry, with friends, you name it. There are many reasons why it will be good to be back at Toad Hall. One is that I’ll be able to call my cell on our land line and not mention to Denis that I’ve lost it, once again.