Lost and Found

Most of the things I lose are not really a big deal. In fact sometimes I even forget that I had them to begin with and it's more like getting something new if I find them. On a few occasions I have lost something precious.

The Metal Momma I made in high school. My vanity compelled me to enter it in an art show I wasn't attending and the art teacher,Pastor Joe's nuttiness compelled him to lose it. I worked so hard on that piece and my Mom loved it so much and I grieve every now and then that it is gone.

A bone ring from Kenya. I gave it to a boy I thought I would love forever and every now and then I grieve that the boy and the ring are not in my life.

A boldly striped sweater. I looked pretty awesome in that sweater, but it got stolen in the laundry room at college. It probably wasn't intentional, but sometimes when I don't know what to wear I grieve that sweet little number is not around.

My balance. When I was 8.... hahaha just kidding. (For all those who don't know why that is funny- I remember everything from my childhood at age 8 for some reason. It was a really significant year apparently!) I was younger than that though when I fell down the steps at my grandparents house. I tumbled (a little less impressively than MacGyver) and broke my arm. To this day my Uncle Ted teases me if I have found my balance yet.

My Michigan license. It was a significant day when I got a Illinois license. (And not just because they print your weight on the front-ick! A man had to have thought of that)I miss saying that I belong in Pure Michigan. Maybe it wasn't my 16 year old self photo that I was so attached to, just my status as being from somewhere where everyone knew my name.... like Cheers... wow! I am so unbelievably full of cliches today.

Anyway, I started thinking about this idea of things lost because last week I lost my silver ring I bought in India. It wasn't expensive, but it was ultra symbolic of the Lord's incredible hand of protection and provision during those 6 weeks and also a replacement in a way of the ring I mentioned above. Admittedly I cried over this little guy and I dug through the women's locker room trash and I prayed about it. At the pool, I gave myself 50 versions of the same pep talk about God's promises remaining despite the physical evidence being lost. When I got back to my office, it was gleaming on the floor in front of my closet. My heart did this funny kind of flip flop and I literally shouted outloud for joy. My thanksgiving was deeply genuine and I may have included a little hop too.

This week I was also reading in Luke the parables about the coin and the lamb and the son that were lost, then found. (Flashback to a Sunday school lesson series with these stories illustrated completely in shades blue and white.) It was an encouragement to imagine the joy there is being found in Christ, especially if finding such a small trinket could cause such a stirring.

I am so grateful that IN HIM I am found and known and loved and forgiven- ETERNALLY!