Better Than Okay: Guido and the Music Box

Packing for littlest one's Children's Hospital eye surgery time:

Means a momma who knows she won't sleep much as part of that preparation.

In the quiet of night, wondering:

What movies should I bring?

What books to include?

What treasured toys for the bag?

Well.

The well-worn "Cars" from Radiator Springs are a must.

(And better pack a few Star Wars action figures, for a youngest boy to keep up with those big brothers back home.)

As I rummage through our large box of car toys, I find myself sitting criss-cross-applesauce next to the shelf of toys. Searching noisily for those beloved "Cars" characters.

McQueen, Mater, Fillmore, Sarge, Sally, Red, Doc, Sheriff, Ramon, Flo, Luigi, Guido...

Wait, where is tiny Guido?

(You know those moments where your mind focuses on and demands the ridiculous-but-oh-so-important:

that the missing Guido is absolutely essential for this time away from home!)

More digging.

Where is that blue "Cars" toy??

Furrowed brow. (As though the fate of the coming days is dependent on this sweet lil' metal toy.)

And then, down the way of the toy shelf, in the nearby Thomas the Tank engine box of familiar Sodor friends, lays that missing Guido car.

Smile to myself. All will be fine... All is found, all is together where it should be.

(My pre-surgery nerves are tightly wound!)

Okay.

So now I need to find an empty box to hold these precious "Cars" toys for our travels.

Head to the basement and look at the shelves of stored toys. Ah-ha. A clear, empty box. Pluck it off the stock pile and step back into the center of the room.

Wait, something is inside this supposed-empty box...

I set the box down on the ground. What IS that black thing?

Ooooh... as I unfasten the lid, my spirit stills.

Over a year ago, my parents gave us a small wooden music box with a picture of our family framed on top.

The song of the music box?

"In Christ Alone."

One of those songs that has long held a special place in my heart.

So powerful, its message.

So gorgeous, its music.

It has reminded me, time after time, of God's promises and presence.

And the boys also loved this inner-working of the music box:

This piece was often removed from the box itself and carried around, the song playing on repeat in their hand, their pocket while they played.

(And I had given it up as missing these past many months!)

And yet, there it was.

A cherished surprise: the reminder of Christ's presence in this time.

This time of still-another surgery for still-another little boy of ours.

Of being immersed in the mental and emotional and spiritual and physical muddle of constant preparation and processing and wishing for control and answers. Waiting and praying.

And a reminder in the form of this lone music box in the "empty" box?

GOD CARES.

GOD IS NEAR.