I really do not like to empty the silverware section of the dishwasher. It is a chaotic compiling of shiny baby pitchforks, tiny sharp spears, and petite shovels. It confuses me, takes too long, and well… I just don’t like it. Am I alone?

But something did occur to me as I was unloading it the other day. It is all of those things above, but it’s also something more: it’s a bunch of little things.

By comparison, the other two sections of the dishwasher are full of larger, more substantial things. Things that take up a lot of room, so it doesn’t take long to unload and stack away. Cups, mugs, casserole dishes, kid plates, crockpot lids, Tupperware, etc. Those sections just seem to go smoothly and quickly.

And did I mention that in our new home, in this new dishwasher, the silverware is in a hidden top compartment, above all the rest, and you have to take the time to separate each piece of silverware- you can’t just throw them willy-nilly in the basket. It is a terribly tedious process.

What on earth does this have to do with anything?

Oh, now if I told you that right away- you wouldn’t keep on reading, would you? So, hold tight. I’ll get back to that I promise. It’s in the title, I have to…

On to a few weekends ago:

I’ll paint the picture- it’s the end of a rainy weekend up in Philly, where the much anticipated yearly West Chester Chili Cook-off was postponed, (but we had a ton of fun anyway!), we are packing up the car very late. Hubby had a work call for 3 hours that evening and we had decided earlier in the weekend that it would be better for him to have the virtual meeting at my parent’s- rather then try to race back home to DC, fighting Columbus day traffic, and try to take the call at our house.

You know those good ideas you have- that turn out not to be one of those good ideas in the end?

This was one of them.

I repeat: it is late. We have been keeping the babies up so they would sleep in the car. They are hot messes. Hubby has been on calls on day and his biggest one for hours through dinnertime. Just setting the tone.

Now, normally- he is in charge of packing the vehicle. He hates it, but does it very well. Like a Jenga game married Tetris. And had a dozen baby bags. He fits things in nooks and crannies like a professional mover. Everything has it’s place. But he has kindly requested that we keep our travel luggage to a minimum- allowing the ever so practical one large, even extra-large! bag per female. He and Knox share, of course. How do boys do it?

Well, it is at this junction that I mention that all the fun we had while NOT being outside at a chili festival was had inside stores shopping for the upcoming festivities of Halloween and Christmas. Enter new bags. Small bags. The ones my husband loathes.

My sweet father tried to start talking bags out to the car while Adam was on the long call, to help out- because He is the best helper on the planet. But my mom and I stopped him in his tracks. We reminded dad that Adam has a system, and you don’t want to mess with it.

In normal circumstances, while hubby packs the car, I go floor to floor, seeking lost items and tiny treasures. My children often think that leaving one shoe, open hair products, phone chargers, uniform socks, and favorite stuffies are just what needs to stay behind. So mine is always a busy job, no matter where we go.

But my girls exploded this time. Things were everywhere. I was instantly overwhelmed with all I had to do. I had a baby in my arms, a toddler tripping my feet, teens being told what to do but not doing it- and all while trying to stay quiet for the important phone call.

Enter helper Dad. He took it upon himself to check in corners and under couches for lost Stoltzfus stuff. Bless his heart.

We manage to get into my SUV, approximately one hour later than hoped, packed to the brim with large bags, and a few too many tiny ones. Oh, and it’s raining. Again.

We say our goodbyes and begin the journey home- tired, wet, frustrated with each other, and with life in general. And just plain mad with Knox, who was panting at a record pace in my face, and stepping all over the crunchy shopping bags. All are weary with the work week knocking at the door- now only a few hours away.

38 minutes into the ride, a call comes in from my father. My mind fears an emergency or we’ve left something. It was the later. ( Thank heavens in the big scheme of things. )

“Oh, hunny- I’ve just found a computer bag and a computer inside. Is it one of the girls’? Do you need this?”

Blood begins boiling.

“Yes, Dad- we do need that. And we’ll turn around and be back in about 45 minutes to grab it.”

After convincing my sweet helper father to stay put in this nasty weather and not drive out to meet us halfway, we are now going the opposite direction of home and have added approximately 1.5 hours to our trip. We are teetering on arriving past midnight…

I fought the immediate instinct to lecture. I fought it for a hard 3 minutes. Then, I burst.

I expressed my disappointment and what incredible inconvenience, inconsideration, and irresponsibility was displayed. Yet I kept feeling like it was not resonating. At all.

So I stewed in the front seat. I stewed hard.

I boiled, and bubbled, and bit my lip about lecturing again.

I was not in a good place.

Finally, ( and sadly- it took this long) I prayed.

I prayed for this feeling to go away- to somehow be free of this resentment towards the situation.

To let go of things I cannot control: like traffic, bad weather, forgotten laptops, rowdy toddlers, pet panting, and my husband’s insanely busy schedule.

With each breath, I released it all.

I’m not proud to say it was almost a full hour before I had come to a place of calm.

When I knocked down the walls of negativity and released the anxious and angry thoughts, I opened myself up to actually realizing what was happening around me.

Quiet.

4 sleeping girls, a snoozing pup, a teenager looking out the window, and my husband’s 90’s country playlist sneaking through the front of the car. Adam was softly singing along and smiling.

The moment and music instantly took me back to when we first met.

And there it was. A present. Right in front of me.

I always want time. Quiet time, more time, or time rewinded. Which you can never, ever really have.

But that night, I had it. I was given the gift of time- all kinds of time.

At first what was unwanted ultimately unraveled into cute conversations, quizzing questions, and long overdue connections. A true silver-lining.

A deep part of me was healed that night.

We may have gotten in way past midnight, but I awoke the next morning with an extra layer of patience, peace, understanding, and love.

Okay. Back to the silverware and my title.

The silverware is annoying. It takes time, you have to pay attention while sorting. But what if I learned to think of the task differently? If I’ve been given an opportunity to slow down, count, sort, pay attention- than let it not be in vain. What if with each piece of silverware, I named a blessing? A person, place, or thing I am grateful to have in my life… how would I feel after the dish drawer was empty? Could I possibly feel full? With no room to complain?

As it is with God.

After hearing so many songs and phrases uttering that “the devil is in the details,” I have come here to argue that it is God who is in the details.

He orchestrates it all. The big AND little.

He is in it all. The big AND little.

God didn’t have to take the time to make things so amazing, but He did. Is there a better time to acknowledge that idea than in the midst of this Fall foliage season? Why didn’t He create a world with seasons that turn from one to another like a light switch- “on” and “off”? He could have, but instead, He carefully crafted a world chalk full of details, like the bursting of radiant color on a tiny leaf, that encourage us to stop for a moment and celebrate. He didn’t have to, but He did.

Because He is good.

It does not mean that everything feels good all the time, we certainly can’t listen to the world on that one.

But, once you adjust your vision to see Him threaded in the small moments and you notice His goodness, it just may be easier to see His hand holding yours in the troubles and hardships.

God is reaching out.

Seek Him. First.

In the mundane, the annoying, the overlooked, the unwanted.

In the detours and the details.

And maybe then, we’ll see Him in the silverware and the silver-linings.