FINDING YOUR LOST THING

Last Tuesday, I found someone else’s paycheck. I picked it up, tracked down the owner, and he came to get it.

Thank you, he said.

Odd. Didn’t think too much of it, except it was fun giving it back. The dude was pretty excited and grateful. That made me happy.

I really did not think too much of it…until:

The other night, just a week later, after being out of town for a stretch, I see a box on my counter. Someone sent my a package!

I open it up. It’s a ring, totally $1200. This, I notice, after I looking a little closer at the packaging. It’s not for me.

I will be returning it tonight. To my neighbor, who is also named Kirsten, who also happens to be living on the same street as me. The postman must be new. Divinely appointed, but new.

So here is where I start asking the question: WHY.  Why would I be the recipient of two items of extreme value in one week? To be delivered to someone else?

There’s got to be an interpretation.

After mulling over it a bit with a night of sleep, some silence and listening, here is what I have come up with:

I am supposed to be a part of helping people recover Lost Things. Simple as that. And I am pretty sure the Lost Things won’t have a price tag.

You may know right away what I am talking about.

So…the question.

Is there a part of your life–beyond material possessions or people–that you feel you have lost?

I know that I have felt, at one point, I lost my voice. I lost the ability to speak and obtain trust and honor from some very important people in my life. While it may seem a bit dramatic now, it was actually a very dark time in my life. I remember feeling robbed by a dark presence that I could not quite grasp. I felt little hope. And I remember wondering if my voice would ever come back.

One thing I do remember hearing early on with all that pain was a promise: “I will restore to you all that was lost”.

And that kept me going.

And now, guided by the paycheck and the ring, I am forced to look back and remember. I look with hope toward the future. For you.

Like a compass, the paycheck and the ring point us forward as a guide.  They serve as a reminder of the miraculous gifts that come from the great Restorer. And I am here to say, my Lost Thing came back. Eventually. And so will yours.

It may not be a paycheck or a ring. It may be your identity. Your childhood. Your destiny.

You are going to find it.

Yes, it’s still here, and it will be returned. Restored.

And while it may be buried under layers of pain, or years of hurt, rejection, disappointment, or disillusionment, it’s time to start believing the truth about your future.