The Lost Ones

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A few moments ago, I lost something. I lost a necklace that was a graduation gift from my parents. It’s very precious to me on many levels, and I wear it often and plan on wearing it for special events in the future.

And for a while, I couldn’t find it.

I had seen it earlier today. It was in a pocket in my duffel bag that I reserve for my jewelry. I put necklaces and rings there when I take them off to go running after work. I’d looked in that pocket earlier today on purpose to make sure the necklace was still where I left it.

When I looked a few minutes ago, it was gone.

I tore the apartment apart. Well, I tore all my pockets apart. I dumped out the contents of my purses. I searched jacket pockets and pants pockets, looking everywhere, berating myself for my carelessness and stupidity.

And then, there it was. On my bed, hidden among a pile of toiletries that I’d emptied out of that same duffle bag a few minutes ago.

All that worrying for naught.

Then I remembered the parable of the woman and the coins. She had a stash of money—a small stash, but a coin went missing. She tore her house to shred looking for that one little coin, but she found it.

Then I remember the parable of the lost sheep. The Shepherd had tons of sheep, and one little lamb went missing. He was no worse off without the sheep, but he clambered up and down rocky hillsides until he found that little sheep and brought it home. He threw a party to celebrate the return of this stupid little lamb.

Then I remember the story of God and me. I was lost. I was wandering. I was wrapped up in my own sense of self and blinded by my foolishness. But God turned death backwards just to save little, insignificant me.

And now I’ll wear that necklace with a new appreciation for it. For the reminder it serves—I was bought with a price, and the High King of Heaven flipped the universe on its head just to bring me home. 

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