Ever lose something you can’t seem to find?
A few weeks ago I lost something and no matter how hard I tried to find what I was looking for I couldn’t seem to find it. It wasn’t something that was tangible, so it wasn’t has if I placed it within a drawer and couldn’t remember which drawer I placed it in. No. It was something that couldn’t be replaced!
I lost my hope!
The definition of hope is a “feeling” of expectation or a simple desire for a certain thing to happen in one’s life. I believe that each person is given a specific job that is placed deep within each persons heart. We feel it so deeply that even though the world believes it might not happen for us, the “hope” we feel for the passion of our desire is what keeps us going, but a few weeks ago I woke up and realized that I had lost the one thing that got me up every morning, and that was the moment when I looked up to heaven and asked God to show me how to find “my” hope again!
A few hours later my mother called and asked me to come over. She was going through her home and going through all her belongings and she thought there might be a few things I might want to keep. Since I had no desire to continue working I got in my car and drove to her home.
For the first 20 minutes I went through boxes of things that belonged to her that she no longer wanted and then she handed me a folder and said, “Oh, the few things in this file might be important to you. I want you to go through this before I throw it away.”
I opened the folder and there were things like a program from my high school graduation, a picture of a woman whom I didn’t know, and even copies of my grandparents obituaries, and then I saw something I had forgotten about and as my eyes filled with tears I said, “Oh my gosh. I found what I was looking for.”
“What were you looking for?” asked my mother.
If anyone ever asks me about that one moment within my life where I knew Jesus was real I always tell the same story. It never changes. It never waivers, and even within these appointments that are within my blog if anyone were to take the time to read back through the years… one would find the story hidden, but for today the quick version goes…
When I was five I lived in the desert, and one day I decided I was going to run away. I ran to where I could no longer find my way home, and even decided that I would make a house in the sand. I grabbed a stick and drew all the rooms that would be needed for me to live, when a man appeared out of no where, and lead me home. Time passed and I was invited to Sunday School with a friend and as I walked in the room there was a picture of a man leaning against the chalkboard. When I happened to see the picture I stopped, and a woman came over to me and said, “That’s Jesus!”
“Oh, that’s his name!” I replied.
That man in the picture was the man I followed home that day. He was the reason I returned home, and he gave me hope that each day would be better and that all I had to do was follow him, and for a moment I had forgotten that. It wasn’t until I opened a folder where I found my hope again.
The interesting part of this appointment with God is that I had forgotten that the “craft-of-that-day” was to make that exact picture. We took a piece of board, glued Jesus to it, painted some Popsicle sticks and glued them on the board. For 45 years I’ve been telling that story and never had the picture to prove the memory. All I can think of is I made the picture, brought it home, and God put it on my mother’s heart to stick it in a drawer so that 45 years later I would be able to find what I had lost, and now that picture is placed in my office, leaning against my chalkboard and each morning when I come into my office the first thing I do is I walk over to the picture of Jesus and I remember the five-year-old girl (who without a doubt) believed in the man she had met in the desert.
But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. 1 Peter 3:15