Trash and Treasure

So my mom had two tickets to DANCE Africa!, a multicultural event that celebrates and shows the different dance styles found throughout Africa. Marvin was working, and Stormy couldn't go, so I had the privilege of being her date. So I got packed up and headed to Dallas. When I got to the Baptist General Convention of Texas to pick up my date I realized that we would be taking Sheila. Sheila was in no state to have anyone ride with her, and so I began to clean. I picked up all the trash from the floorboards, organized the library that is in my backseat, and also found a small grocery store consisting of waterbottles, fruit singles, and Starbucks doubleshots. So after cleaning, I gathered everything and threw it all into the giant Garden Ridge bag that I had in my car and threw it in the trash can in front of the elevators on my way up from the parking garage. You might be asking, 'Why is this so detailed? Why do I care that she cleaned her car and threw away the trash?' Patience, dear reader, patience.
So I went up to the most important floor, the Fourth Floor, and found my mom. We left shortly after, and I remember when I stepped out of the elevator that something in me wanted to look in the trash can to see if the Garden Ridge bag was still there. A voice from the Roundtable that are my thoughts asks "Why do you care?" Another voice pops up, "Well, you can't see it from here even if it was there because it was the only thing in the trashcan, remember? Because we heard it hit the bottom." So I kept walking, wondering why I just wanted to see the trash.
A few moments later we were off to dinner, had a lovely time at Cafe Express, and then got lost going to Joanns. I do not consider myself a shopper, but when it comes to selecting material for a quilt, I do not like to be rushed. I like to consider my decisions and make sure that this design is really the one I want. However there was not time for that. After getting semi-lost, time was short before we had to be at the Majestic Theater for DANCE Africa!. While standing in line waiting to pay, I realized I didn't have my wallet with me so I went outside to get it. I couldn't find it. I remember it being on the floorboard of the passenger side, but after skimming, it was no where to be found. Ah well, I had cash so I just paid and thought I would look for my wallet later.
When we left Joanns my mother was driving (I thought it would be easier for her to drive rather than have to tell me where to go and have her try and look for my wallet), and I was searching for my small silver case that I love dearly, but to no avail. Becoming increasingly frantic, my mother asked what I would have done with it, "Is it under the seat? Is it in the back seat? Are you sure you didn't leave it in Belton? Is it in your purse?" Of course I know that I always keep it in the middle console, but sometimes it falls out onto the passenger side floor. And that's when it hit me.
I threw it away.
I remember thinking when I was picking up papers from the floorboard: this cardboard is really cold...and it feels funny. But I didn't stop to look at it. I simply threw it in the Garden Ridge bag that I then threw into the trashcan in P2 of the BGCT. Enter panic.

Now, before we go any further let me just tell you what my wallet contained: one debit card, one registered Starbucks Red card, one valid driver's license, and one credit card. And what was I most upset about losing, you ask? The case. Everything else can be replaced. But I bought that silver case years ago at Bed Bath & Beyond. I don't know that I can find another one, sigh.

So my mom tells me to call the BGCT front desk and ask David to go see if it is still down there. Maybe, just maybe the maintenance people have not gotten to P2 yet. Maybe it's still there...right? (if any of you know how my life goes, you know that it will not be there, but I still hold on to hope) So I called and talked to David, the security guard, and he said he would go down and check for me. I called him back 10 minutes later, and he said that all of the trash had already been taken out for the night to the container out back, and possibly to the compactor. Instantly I had a vision, somewhat like Star Wars, except my little wallet did not survive. It was crushed and broken, mixed with old coffee grounds and shredded bank statements. My heart sank. However, David told me he found the only maintenance person who spoke English and had them translate to help find my wallet. Meanwhile my mom is still convinced it's somewhere in the car and I just haven't looked close enough. Regardless, we must press on and go to DANCE Africa!. So we go and realize that we don't have enough money for the parking meter. We have $1.90 in silver coins, and we need at least $2.50. Again, if you know my life, you know that when we come out of the theater, Sheila will be the proud owner of a new ticket. My mom assures me that the police have better things to do in Downtown Dallas than give me a ticket on a Friday night. I call David, but to no avail, he is not at the front desk. My heart sinks a little more. Once the show starts, I cannot talk to David to see if he has found my wallet or to see if he even found the bag and my wallet's not in it, so it has to be somewhere else.
He calls moments before the show begins to say that he, along with the three Korean maintenance workers, went out back to the container and dug through the day's trash, but they did not find a Garden Ridge bag, let alone my wallet. I told him thank you for at least looking, and that I appreciated their effort even if nothing was gained. The entire show my mind was racing...this doesn't prove my wallet isn't in there. They didn't even find the GR bag. My wallet *is* in there...somewhere. And it's not that I don't think that the four people looking were incompetent, but they don't have an attachment to what they are trying to find. They are merely looking. I made up my mind to ask my mom if she would take me to the container and let me dig through the trash.
The show was terrific. Although I think my feet would hurt from dancing barefoot for that long and what have you.
So after the show we go find Sheila, and she does not have a present for me. God is good.
And we have to go back to the building anyway because that is where my mom's car is. We drive around the front, but we cannot see David behind the desk. Which means that everything is locked and we cannot get in to the compactor to look ourselves. I ask my mom if we can go look. Maybe they haven't moved the trash from the big container into the compactor. I ask for simply ten minutes to look. After that, I can say that I had tried, but even I couldn't find it. She agrees, after making me look through the car once more, before we, I mean, I go into the dumpster.
So we drive up out of the parking garage out to where the trash is kept. The container is huge, as in the size of three normal dumpsters. This task is massive, and my wallet is small. But I want it. I quickly calculated that there was a lot of trash, but there was a finite amount in there. It was possible, even if unlikely, to find my wallet.
So I put on my favorite tennis shoes (the only real shoes I brought with me other than flip flops. I have never really been inside a dumpster, but I can imagine flip flops would not be helpful in any way.) and climb in-dress clothes and all. I want my wallet. I know it is here...somewhere. So I begin looking around and gathering clues. Some bags are wet-it rained yesterday-they are not the ones I am looking for. The GR bag was the only thing in the bag-it might be by itself, or they might have stuck it into another bag that was not full. So when I look it bags and see cups, plates, food, and no other bag, I toss it aside. I know what I am looking for, and I will not be deterred. My mom is standing on wooden pallets looking in bags on the edge of the container, trying to be helpful. I was looking in bags, tossing them aside as I saw fit, and my mom commented, "You aren't even really looking in some bags. Do you just think you're going to know what bag it's in?" Yes.
As I was looking, I misstepped a few times and sunk into the wetness that was the trash of the BGCT. My shoes were soaking. As were the bottom half of my pants and part of my shirt. But I did not care. I was determined.
So after what was close to ten minutes, I open one bag and see a white plastic bag. I turn it and see orange on the bag...could it be? and then I see the G, for God is good (also the first letter of Garden Ridge). So I start screaming, "I found it!! I found it!!" I throw it down to my mom. She asks me if I'm getting down. I said, "Not until you look through that bag. I am not getting down to get back in."
So she starts looking. And found it. We high fived as best as we could and I started to climb down. I cannot tell you the sense of elation I felt when I had my little silver wallet.
I had what I had searched for with all my heart even though I sacrificed my favorite shoes and dress clothes. I had my prize, found among all the garbage and filth. I felt as if I were the woman in Luke 15 that cleaned her entire house looking for one coin, and rejoiced when she found it. I felt as if I were the man who went out and sold all he had to buy that plot of land for there was a treasure buried there. It was all worth it, and I could not have been happier.

*Lessons learned: either (1) never clean your car, or (2) keep it consistently clean.
*Lessons remembered: God is good and gives us little glimpses to remind us of the joy of finding Heaven.