I wrote about the great key loss and my frantic search, on my iPhone from my bed with my beloved snoring beside me. As a story will do to its writer, it changed me first. I was ready to wake up early and begin searching for my Jesus. I planned to get up 30 minutes earlier than usual. I would shower and grab my coffee and Bible long before the children were calling from their beds.
I nudged my man, and told him my plan. I was setting my alarm, but if I wasn't up when he got up, then he needed to wake me. He chuckled and said with sarcasm, "OK, sure." Before, I would have been bummed at his unbelief in me. But this time I was confident I didn't need his help. After reflecting on my frantic search, I knew I would prove my doubting husband wrong. He would wake to find me sitting in the sun room, coffee in hand, scouring my Bible for my Jesus.
I knew just what I wanted to find. The parable of the the woman tossing her house upside down for a lost coin. It was a coin right? I couldn't remember the exact details, but I would discover them in the morning.
The only thing I've forgotten to mention is that I'm not a morning girl. Unless there's a beach and a sun rising over it, I'm in my bed until the last possible second. So when the alarm went off half an hour early, I did what I was highly motivated to do. I pressed snooze. When my phone chimed 9 minutes later, my husband nudged me and mumbled, "You wanted to get up." I quickly
I finally made my way to the coffee pot an hour after I'd sent my love off to work, and finished eating breakfast with my children. I tried not to be too hard on myself. I remembered His grace abounds, and I should offer it to myself. The smell of that precious black liquid woke me from my sleepy fog, and I realized my longing was still there. I still wanted to search for my Jesus. I quickly jumped to plan B.
"PBS kids, anyone?" Of course they both agreed. Within minutes I was in the sun room with my coffee and my Bible. I was ready to search while listening to the sweet sounds of Curious George. Unlike yesterday I was not giving up on my search. I was eager to relate my experience to that parable Jesus spoke so many years ago.
I looked in the first gospel of Matthew. No parable of a lost coin. The search continued to Mark. I checked all the subtitles. Again, no parable of a lost coin. I was really hoping I hadn't imagined its existence, when I finally found it in Luke.
"Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Doesn't she light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, 'Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.' In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents." ~Luke 15:8-10
His red words stared at me. He is not the lost key. He is not the lost coin. Jesus is God. He is never lost.
I am. I am the lost one.
He came looking for me, He tore through the house, and motivated by love He did the unthinkable.
For me; the sinner, the girl who can't wake up early, but does think she can control her life.
His words humbled me, and I had found my Jesus again.
The Jesus who had found me, rejoiced over me, and reminded me again to repent of my self reliance, and rest in His grace.
