cleaning your sock drawer

A friend of mine says she's "cleaning her sock drawer" when she's procrastinating doing a dreaded task. I know I'm a procrastinator and all, but a few days ago, I really was cleaning my sock drawer, honest!  You'd be amazed at what I found. 

 

White socks, black socks, blue socks, tan socks.  (Have I been reading too much Dr. Seuss or what? :-)  I found 17 socks total, all without a partner!  Seventeen???  It bugged me so bad that I marched into both my children's rooms and looked in their sock drawers too.  Sure enough, it was the same scenario, different rooms. Pink socks, blue socks, white socks, Barbie socks.  I found 8 socks total, all without a partner! 

Where in the world did these missing socks go? 

I mean, seriously, it's not like they just disappeared...they had to be somewhere.  At one point, both socks of the pair were present, or we wouldn't have had them to begin with. Is the dryer hungry or something? Are you supposed to feed it? How come it never eats the pairs that have holes in them and need to be thrown out anyways?  Oh, I bet I know. They probably never made it to the dryer to begin with. The washer is the culprit! They probably get sucked down the washer's drain pipe, or else disintegrate into nothingness during the spin cycle. Wait a second. Maybe it has nothing to do with being washed and dryed. Perhaps they've had enough of their co-dependent lifestyle and decided to ditch the familiar, hoping to gain some much needed independence. But how do they do that? Do they attend some support group in the secret underground world of lone socks? Yes? Then how do they get there? Maybe if they are lucky enough to fall out of the laundry basket as I bring them up the stairs, and then get accidentally kicked under the couch, that's when they do the secret sock hop that opens a trap door in the floor that leads them to a sockdom like no other... 

Okay, so I'm going off the deep end a little.  But their missing status really disturbs me.  And the poor socks that are left behind are rendered useless. They just sit on the floor of my closet...never considered for wear...never aging...just waiting.  Waiting patiently for their mate to be found. Longing for the day their partner returns and they are reunited, have renewed purpose and are worn again. 

And just so you know, as their owner, it's not like I haven't tried looking for these poor lost socks. I've looked everywhere I can imagine (behind and beside the washer and dryer, under the beds, in other drawers, behind things in the closets), and I must say, I did find a few matches! WOW was I excited! 

Is it cruel for me to keep the others? I just don't have the heart to throw them away, because I still hope they'll show up someday. What if one day, in the midst of a cleaning frenzy, I find one of the missing mates? One that had been lost, but now was found? Or one decides to return to its mate because the underground sockdom wasn't all it was cracked up to be?

 

Funny enough, my lost sock experience kind of reminds me of some of Jesus' parables. The parable of the lost sheep: the shepherd leaves his 99 sheep to go find one that's missing. When he finds it, he carries it home on his shoulders and calls his friends so they can share in his joy. The parable of the lost coin: the woman misplaces one of her ten coins and cleans frantically until she finds it. Again, she is so thrilled that she calls her friends to rejoice with her. And finally, my favorite.  The parable of the lost son: the son asks for his inheritance early, leaves home and squanders it. He finally comes to his senses and returns home asking for forgiveness and a job as a hired hand. While his father didn't actually go out to look for the son, he never lost hope that he would return. And when he did, it was worthy of a feast.

What a relief it is to know that Jesus doesn't lose hope in me.  It's a good thing he comes looking for me when I'm lost, and waits patiently for me to return when I stray.  

So go. Don't procrastinate. Go clean your sock drawer of life and see what you find. I bet you'll find Jesus there.