Yesterday, I dropped my phone in the pool. It was underwater for about 4-6 seconds. Currently, it sits in a bag of rice, hopefully drying out into a workable condition…..or at least a condition that allows me to get my photos off. We aren’t just talking about a few photos folks, we are talking about 2 years worth of photos. And no, you don’t have to say it. I know I am an idiot.
I had for a while a bit of computer storage issues, where my hard drive was basically full. Adding pictures to the computer wasn’t possible, and along with the near full storage, I was having some major processing issues. Thomas made it so I could up the size of my hard drive, exchanging on Mac for another. That was nearly 6 months ago. Ask me if I’ve uploaded my photos. Wait, on second thought, don’t; you know the answer.
As the phone sits in rice and I wonder if or when I will get those pictures back, I think of all the memories that are located in a digital form on that phone. Yes, I upload to Instagram, some to Facebook, and I text images to friends, but that is just a fraction of the moments. Outside of those glimpses, there is also some audio of my mom telling me she loves me. After she passed, I looked into my deleted voice messages (which I didn’t really know was a thing) and found one where she was healthy and returned it to “live” and then saved it into a digital memo.
I may have had some auto updates to the cloud, and all the data and content could be safe. Unfortunately, we aren’t 100% sure on that yet, for part of the sign-in confirmation consists of a text with a verification code sent to your phone, which as I’ve noted sits in a bag of rice, turned off, and perhaps permanently broken. We’ve sent the code to Thomas’s phone, but per Apple, it can be “several days” until he gets the code, since he is not the registered phone. Darn safety measures.
When I told Thomas what happened, I was pretty upset, obviously. I was able to text him via my computer. He immediately went into a mode to help find solutions. Often, this “fix it” mentality can be frustrating, but in this particular case, it is just what I needed. Fortunately, my phone is available for upgrade and the new iPhone 7 is waterproof up to a few meters for about 30 minutes. So, if I am idiot enough for this to happen again, I will be saved to some degree. He researched some apps that have proven themselves successful at recovery of damaged files and content off phones that are possessed like people like me. He came home after work and hugged me. He didn’t say anything other than it will be okay, and then after a few minutes of making sure I was okay, laughing at jokes I was cracking about myself over the disaster I have created, he did kindly state, “This is why I wanted to get you a waterproof case.” But take note it was said with love, not condemnation.
Basically minutes after he got home, the college students we lead a Bible study for started showing up at the house. Together, we all made fun of me. “Oh wait, Summer doesn’t know what we are talking about because she doesn’t have a phone to get the texts!” “Just ask Summer to take a picture of it for you!” and so forth and so on. Meanwhile, I’m laughing but also internally beating myself up, telling myself this is a first world problem and I should get over it; true problems really exist and this is not one of them. Yet…..it is still important to me, and therefore it was important to Thomas.
This morning, he sent me a few texts checking in on my day, which I was able to receive through my computer. He was kind. He was patient. He was loving.
Then, before lunch, while playing hide and seek with Hazel, the doorbell rang. I looked out the window upstairs and saw a glimpse of a delivery truck with an image that looked familiar. Okay, to be honest, Hazel was hiding in my closet, I knew where she was, so I was washing my face while counting (cause Momma’s gotta work with the time that they have) and my glasses were off. The glimpse out the window with my -5.75 vision showed a white blur of a van with some red and yellow, yet even with that limited view, I had an idea of what I was looking at. I was pretty certain it was an Edible Arrangements van.
I threw my glasses on and sprinted downstairs. Meanwhile, Hazel starts yelling for me, howling and crying. I open the door and see a confirmation of an Edible Arrangement in the woman’s hand, and Hazel immediately appears at the top of the stairs screaming for me. The lure of the present in front of me made me want to ignore Hazel, yet her yells were so obnoxious, I turned to attend to her, at which point she began to bounce on her butt and fall down the last three stairs.
I picked her up. The middle aged woman at my door just stared at me. Hazel clung to me with passion, and I began asking the lady who sent this to me. She dryly responded. “There is a card. It should say. I need you to sign for this.”
Now, you’ve got to understand how important and amazing an Edible Arrangement seems to me. It was for real a dream come true the day my friends sent me one after mom died. That’s the only one I have ever received, up until this point.
I sprint with Hazel on my hip and arrangement in my hand into the kitchen. The boys flock around me, gathering to see who we should thank for this glorious gift. I read the card, which says, “Something sweet to remind you that not everything is sour right now. I love you.” Beautiful isn’t it? Yet, no name. The boys say, “BUT WHO IS IT FROM????” I tell them since the person loves me it must be daddy, to which Daniel responds, “Or maybe it is some other guy that loves you that doesn’t know you are married.” I laughed so much at that, for if some guy knows me and doesn’t know I am married, he is not very bright or observant, and therefore he is not my cup of tea.
And, of course, I immediately wanted to take a picture and send a thank you text to Thomas…..yet the phone is still in rice. We do have an ipad, so I took a picture with that, and then we immediately began devouring the delicious fruit. It didn’t take long for us to consume everything but a few pieces of mango.
And as I ate the fruit, enjoying the sweet taste and having juice drip down my hands, the following verse came to mind: “5For husbands, this means love your wives, just as Christ loved the church.”
Y’all, he loves me, as Christ loved the church. Here I am, irresponsible. Here I am, neglectful. Here I am, in the wrong, full of disappointment in myself, lingering on sentimental earthly treasures rather than caring about the eternal. And what does Thomas do? He loves me. Not just does he love me, but he rewards me in the process. He goes above and beyond to comfort my heart and formulate a plan to bring me back into joy. And that, friends, is exactly what the Lord does for us. He sees us and knows we are hurting, perhaps even over something that we could have or should have prevented. The Lord has every right to let us melt in our situation, be consumed by it and confirmed in our ignorance. Yet, He loves us more. He loves us so much that he will come down in those moments, not mention how he told us so, not treat us how we would treat him, full of berating and complaints, but rather He comes to us, hugs us, and gives us a gift of comfort.
Thank you Lord for a man that understand how you love. May we all grow in that understanding, via Edible Arrangements, wet phone, and hurting hearts, if that is what it takes.
some cool tasks, like Kindergarten tour guides of sorts. For the first two weeks he welcomed them out of their cars and held their hands, if needed, covered them with umbrellas, if necessary, and spoke kindly to them in order to help them feel safe at their new school. He kept a kindergarten tally of sorts, noting how many little kids he was able to help. The whole concept did wonders for his self-esteem. He was also really good at it, and this is coming from other mommas that saw him helping and working with the K-kids, sometimes even their own. It did my heart wonders to hear of his gentle spirit. We tell them to “Love God, Love Others,” and it is nice to see that in practice, even at his little elementary school. Speaking of, this is his LAST year in elementary! How in the world did that happen?
The V Files 