Yes, I’ve been teaching little kids at church for quite a while. And since 1978, I’ve been teaching Sunday School in the same room. So, yeah, I guess, I do somewhat, a little bit, think of it as my room. I do try to remember to say, “The room where I teach Sunday School … ,” because that’s the truth. Other things happen in the room, like Children’s Bible Club (which is what we call the event that is typically referred to as “Bible School”).

Children’s Bible Club happened last month, a couple of weeks after Fun with Friends. I e-mailed the woman who was going to be teaching in the room (you know, “the room where I teach Sunday School”). She has as much, if not more, experience than I, so I knew she wouldn’t be confused about things like, “why are all these blocks stacked on shelves instead of in a bin?” and “why is there play dough in here?” and “WHY ON EARTH IS THERE A REAL STAPLER SITTING OUT WHERE KIDS CAN GET AT IT?!?”

I was careful to put away all the books and puzzles that I’d been using for a couple of weeks in Sunday School, to leave space for what she needed to put out. I tidied up the dramatic play center, checking for errant markers/crayons that had found their way into drawers and play purses, and gathering up the play money and putting it back into the cash register.

I replenished the art shelves, checking the paper, markers, and glue bottles.

Everything seemed ready to go. I got a good report from the teacher about the things they did.

The next Sunday, the room looked all orderly. I got out the things I needed for Sunday School. Teachers arrived. Kids came. We were all involved and busy, and then I went to the shelves to get some masking tape. The masking tape space was empty. Hmmm.

I looked around the room. Nope.

I checked the cabinets. Nada.

I asked the other teachers, in case it was right in front of me and I’d missed it. We all looked around. No masking tape dispenser. I looked in the cabinets again. (Why do we do that?) The tape dispenser still wasn’t in a cabinet.

We looked in the rooms next to ours (which are not being used right now). You’ve probably guessed. No tape dispenser.

We love our tape dispenser. It’s such a grown-up thing to be able to do. Tearing one’s own tape (which is sometimes, as a kid is learning how, a very l-o-n-g piece of tape) is a wonderful fine-motor skill. And, because I usually have two or three different colors of tape in the cabinet, when we get to the end of one roll, we vote on our color choice for the next roll. Democracy at the preschool level. One Sunday, there were eight kids and the vote was a tie. Four for green to four for blue. No one was willing to change their vote, so I said, “Okay. We’ll try again next week,” and there was no masking tape in the dispenser. The next week, seven kids. Blue had more supporters and won the vote.

Which brings me back to the missing tape dispenser with the blue tape. I just figured that someone came looking for masking tape, borrowed it from the room, carried it someplace else where someone else, and maybe two or three someone elses, had taken turns using it, until no one really knew where it had come from. I felt like it would turn up.

Last Sunday, I needed to laminate some Bible verse words (kids were going to jump on them, and they really don’t last if they’re not laminated). I went to the resource room, turned on the laminating machine, and left it to warm up. A while later, I went back with my colorful words.

Our resource room–disinfecting wipes, scales (which are weighing a rather hefty two-hole punch), clip boards, the laminating machine, and TA-DAH!! the tape dispenser.

And, of course, it is the absolutely most logical place for an office quality tape dispenser to be. I’m imagining a bunch of people working together, and when they were finished and cleaning up, someone said, “I wonder where this belongs.” And someone else said, “It probably belongs in the resource room.” And, actually, somebody should buy one for the resource room. And maybe I should write my name on mine. I did, of course, return it to its place on the art shelves. I think in another couple of weeks, we’ll be ready for a vote for the next color.

Meanwhile, closer to home. Very close.

A few sprinkles of rain fell and they moved to the porch. They mixed colors of chalk paint and tried some pouring techniques, which, delightfully, means that you can walk in the chalk paint and make interesting shoe footprints. Some rain fell Sunday afternoon, but didn’t do much washing-away.

What is faith? It is the confident assurance that something we want is going to happen. It is the certainty that what we hope for is waiting for us, even though we cannot see it up ahead.

Hebrews 11:1 (The Living Bible)

I know I’m taking the serious words of faith and applying them to something as trivial as a misplaced tape dispenser. But the confidence I felt was similar. I was quite sure that the missing tape dispenser was indeed near and real and waiting to be found, just as I am confident that God’s eternal love holds me near.

Last Wednesday, a week ago, my mother-in-law, talking to an aide at the nursing home, said, “I’m leaving.” The aide asked where she was going. “Heaven,” she said, “to see my brother and sister and husband.” Early, early Saturday morning, she did. A bit of Hebrews 11:1.