Lost…and Found!

This year, I’m challenging myself to do new things and embrace experiences outside of my comfort zone. Oh, the places I am going!
Though I tend to be directionally challenged and beyond map assistance, this vignette is not about ME getting lost (this time) – read on, my friend…

Memories of MPLS Feb. 2018

A fond memory from my first trip to Minneapolis in February – when I discovered the outdoor covered waiting area for the light rail was equipped with a HEATER! #euphoria #elation #southerngal

This past Monday, I found myself flying for work to a Midwest a city I’d never visited. “Welcome to Minneapolis!” the pilot announced as we prepared to land. “The current temperature is 0 degrees…” I don’t know what else he said after that; I must’ve blanked out, because in my southern belle mindset, ZERO is not a temperature. It’s a level of tolerance, but it’s definitely not a temperature. So after grappling with the decision of whether or not to get off the plane (I did), experiencing zero degrees for myself (I don’t need to do that again), and surviving the cold to joyfully return two days later to 60+ degree February weather in North Carolina (with much gratitude), I was grateful for all of the layers of outerwear that helped keep me from becoming a popsicle. I probably looked like a 5-foot tall Minnesota Yeti (do those exist?), but I wasn’t there to make a fashion statement – I wanted to stay warm. Mission accomplished.

On this sojourn into the wintry tundra, I’d taken my Isotoner gloves (given to me by my dearly departed grandmother, maven of classic style), so not only are they functional (and insulated!), but they have sentimental value because I’ve had this personalized gift for (at least) a decade. My gloves arrived home with me, safely tucked into the pockets of my fur-lined winter parka affectionately dubbed by my hubby as “the mini-bear.” I wore “the mini-bear” to Bible Study on Wednesday, and when I reached into my pockets after service concluded, I gasped when I pulled out only one. I feverishly dug around for the matching glove, asking people who sat near me if they’d seen a black glove lying around, and felt my heart sink as I retraced my steps to the car, seeing no lone glove laying on the pavement. Grrr…what good is one glove?

Anyone who knows me is aware that I react in similar manner when a sock in my house is missing its mate (baffling – if two went into the washing machine, how can only one come out of the dryer? Is there a sock-eating monster hiding in my laundry room???). As I continue to explore the conspiracy, I’ve started pairing my own socks with a safety pin before tossing them into the hamper – this has brought me some semblance of sanity from the mysterious disappearances. But this wasn’t a sock; this was the set of gloves given to me by my grandmother – and I desperately wanted to find the match. Thursday, it was so warm that I didn’t need “the mini-bear,” and I tried to console myself that maybe the glove would miraculously turn up before it got cold again in a few days. By Friday, I wasn’t sulking about my unfortunately misplaced glove, and had somewhat resigned myself to the fact that I’d enjoyed the pair for over a decade, so if I needed to purchase another set of gloves, I was in a position to do so (hey – making lemonade from lemons, right?).

Saturday morning, as I dressed to take my children to a science enrichment program, I put on my comfiest pair of grey sweatpants, reached in to straighten out the bulky pocket lining gone awry, and lo and behold if I didn’t feel my long-lost glove! I squealed with glee and ran to proclaim the glad tidings to the rest of my family (who stared at me flatly for two seconds before returning to their breakfast without a word, shaking their heads as if to say, “That’s just Mom.”).

Though they didn’t share my jubilation, what immediately flashed through my mind was how God must feel about the return of someone who belongs to Him. Do we diligently seek to save that which is lost and bring them back into His sheepfold? Do we have any idea of the sheer delight it brings His heart to see the return of someone restored to where they rightfully belong because they humbly receive the sacrifice made by His dear Son? May we realize that souls are more important to our Father than a missing glove or sock could ever be…and align our actions accordingly to consistently build the citizenry of His kingdom.

4 What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it?
5 And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing.
6 And when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbours, saying unto them, Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost.
7 I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance.
8 Either what woman having ten pieces of silver, if she lose one piece, doth not light a candle, and sweep the house, and seek diligently till she find it?
9 And when she hath found it, she calleth her friends and her neighbours together, saying, Rejoice with me; for I have found the piece which I had lost.
10 Likewise, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth.”
(Luke 15:4-10)

© Copyright 2018 by Kayren J. Cathcart

 

2 thoughts on “Lost…and Found!

  1. Love it. I’ve found in my current season that in order to move with God we must be willing to move outside of our comfort zone. We must be willing to leave what is familiar just for the one. Thanks for another great blog.

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