I have yet to learn what God is teaching me through the events that took place today.
I won't go through all the details of what led up to it. I had just talked to him in the kitchen and in the matter of one minute...
I was looking for Peter and growing more panicked by the second. He wasn't answering me, I was screaming. He wouldn't come even though I was calling him.
I went outside and he was nowhere to be found.
I was in full panic mode.
I called my dad (thankfully he was home for lunch) and lost it, my fear and panic had fully attacked me. Icried balled my eyes out.
I looked all over the house again, and again, and again, and again. He was nowhere.
My dad, sister, grandpa, grandma, two neighbors (who were on their tractors farming, saw the commotion, and came to help); we searched for 15 minutes, if not more.
I called 911 and my grandma went in the house to be with the twinners.
She entered my room to get Abigail a tissue.
I was watching through teary eyes as people searched for my precious Peter.
I talked with the 911 operator in a surprisingly efficient manner. I was recalling our address, phone, names, what he was wearing, hair color, etc. with ease. I'm happy to know I can remember these things when it's of importance.
The operator was wrapping up our conversation and telling me that the deputies were on their way when my grandma came out of the house and said she found him. She saw him the second time she went in to get a tissue for Abigail.
He had fallen asleep (or so we assume, he was awake when we found him) in my bed, under the covers (I hadn't made my bed). I had been in my room at least four times but never checked under the covers. I was more thinking he was just hiding from me so I checked his hiding places.
We had found him.
Relief, tears of joy, hugs, kisses. Peter was confused.
He normally tells me when he's tired and wants to sleep, today he didn't.
My fears and worst thoughts about what could have happened are still lingering in my head.
But, today I am grateful that nothing bad did happen. I can't be mad, I'm not upset, he's not in trouble; he's very loved, he's receiving lots of attention, and he gets to choose dinner tonight!
I'm actively seeking God this afternoon as to why this experience had to happen. Why did I go through this trauma just to find him in my bed under the covers? Some answers are coming to me.
Seek Him first - something we forget to do in full panic mode.
Ask for His help - I think we forget this because of our thought process of the physical. We are physically here, we look for things, we can go and find something. When we ask for his help, though, it will be God guiding our steps, our thoughts, our minds, instead of ourselves searching aimlessly by our own weak strength.
I pray this never happens again. But in any other situation where my first instinct is to react physically I must remember this day and react spiritually instead.
I won't go through all the details of what led up to it. I had just talked to him in the kitchen and in the matter of one minute...
I was looking for Peter and growing more panicked by the second. He wasn't answering me, I was screaming. He wouldn't come even though I was calling him.
I went outside and he was nowhere to be found.
I was in full panic mode.
I called my dad (thankfully he was home for lunch) and lost it, my fear and panic had fully attacked me. I
I looked all over the house again, and again, and again, and again. He was nowhere.
My dad, sister, grandpa, grandma, two neighbors (who were on their tractors farming, saw the commotion, and came to help); we searched for 15 minutes, if not more.
I called 911 and my grandma went in the house to be with the twinners.
She entered my room to get Abigail a tissue.
I was watching through teary eyes as people searched for my precious Peter.
I talked with the 911 operator in a surprisingly efficient manner. I was recalling our address, phone, names, what he was wearing, hair color, etc. with ease. I'm happy to know I can remember these things when it's of importance.
The operator was wrapping up our conversation and telling me that the deputies were on their way when my grandma came out of the house and said she found him. She saw him the second time she went in to get a tissue for Abigail.
He had fallen asleep (or so we assume, he was awake when we found him) in my bed, under the covers (I hadn't made my bed). I had been in my room at least four times but never checked under the covers. I was more thinking he was just hiding from me so I checked his hiding places.
We had found him.
Relief, tears of joy, hugs, kisses. Peter was confused.
He normally tells me when he's tired and wants to sleep, today he didn't.
My fears and worst thoughts about what could have happened are still lingering in my head.
But, today I am grateful that nothing bad did happen. I can't be mad, I'm not upset, he's not in trouble; he's very loved, he's receiving lots of attention, and he gets to choose dinner tonight!
I'm actively seeking God this afternoon as to why this experience had to happen. Why did I go through this trauma just to find him in my bed under the covers? Some answers are coming to me.
Seek Him first - something we forget to do in full panic mode.
Ask for His help - I think we forget this because of our thought process of the physical. We are physically here, we look for things, we can go and find something. When we ask for his help, though, it will be God guiding our steps, our thoughts, our minds, instead of ourselves searching aimlessly by our own weak strength.
I pray this never happens again. But in any other situation where my first instinct is to react physically I must remember this day and react spiritually instead.
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