My daughter and I sat side by side on her RV couch, holding our cell phones. I had just complained about how often I misplaced mine.
“Mom,” she said, “why don’t you just call it?”
“Pardon me?”
“Call it. It will answer you.”
She reached for my phone and adjusted its settings. “Now say, ‘Hey, Siri? Where are you?’”
“Hey, Siri, where are you?” I repeated.
My phone remained mute, but an accented female voice responded from hers. “I’m over here.” Amanda chuckled. “Your phone’s not trained yet, and my phone can’t tell our voices apart.”
Before long, Siri learned my voice. Now, whenever I’ve lost track of my device, I call for it. If it’s within range of my voice, I hear a cheerful, “Here I am,” or “I’m over here.”
Last week, while shopping with my littlest grandfellow, I loaded my groceries on the checkout counter. As usual, I reached for my phone, and the pouch on the back that holds all my payment cards. My hand found only an empty space.
My heart sank as I realized I must have set it down somewhere while shopping. Visions of the possible consequences raced through my thoughts. The checkout clerk seemed to understand and called someone over. Almost immediately several employees began sweeping the aisles, searching.
“Lord,” I breathed, “please remind me where I left my phone.”
Seconds later, a single word came to mind. “Soup.” Of course, I thought. Moments earlier, I’d visited the serve-yourself deli and chosen a delicious-looking creamy chicken soup for our supper. I could have put the phone down on the counter.
As I neared the deli, another shopper approached, accompanied by a store employee. My fellow shopper had found the phone on the counter by the soup pots. She’d begun to make her way over to the Service Counter to leave it there, when one of the searchers pointed me out as its owner. I accepted the phone, grateful for her honesty and the store’s attentiveness to my plight.
Funny, but I never even thought of calling the phone. (The mental image of myself dashing up and down the store aisles, shouting, “Hey, Siri, where are you?” makes me giggle.) Instead, long habit rose to the surface and I reached instead for my closest friend, Jesus Christ. He understands things like careless moments, misplaced items and distracted grandmothers. He has never failed me when I’ve called.
Have you lost something vital? Something far more crucial than your phone? “Call on me,” God says, in scripture, “and I will answer you.” God’s answers don’t always come so quickly, and his response isn’t always what we wish it would be. But we have his promises in the Word that he always hears his children, that he is attentive to our calls, and that, in his own way and time, he will answer.
Truly, Jesus never fails.
