Here Am I

“Does my girlfriend live here?”

Tiny footsteps up the walk and a tiny voice asking, “Does my girlfriend live here?” floats through the open window in the dimming evening light.

Wide and curious eyes peer up at me, a tiny form on tiptoes, straining to see if this is where she might be.

Goodness! It’s getting dark, and I’ve never seen him around here before.

A neighbor shares that this little one has gone to every house on the street—walking right in through any unlocked doors—searching for his hearts love: “my girlfriend.”

No one is around—no anxious searching parent anywhere that I can see.

Well, Lord—he has come to my house. And I feel his angel prodding me to help God’s little child lost.

He has slipped out of my yard and into the dangerous street—I am close behind. “Wait a minute! Come back and talk to me before you go.”

“Okay,” he says, trundling his little-boy-self over to my side.

I kneel to talk on his level. “What’s your name?”

“Michael,” says he!

Such a beautiful boy—not a trace of pretense—except when I ask him where his mommy and daddy are. He studies the ground then looks me straight in the eye. “I don’t have any!” he boldly declares.

“How old are you, Michael?”

“I’m three,” he says, holding up the three appropriate fingers.

“Well, since it is getting dark, why don’t you take my hand, and we will go home and see if your Mom can find your girlfriend for you tomorrow. Is that okay?”

Yes, it was okay—and he grabs my little finger and holds on tight.

Lord, help me to find Michael’s home. And off we go, hand on finger, trusting that I will somehow find Michael’s house. He’s no help at all, and I only know which direction he came from. God knows . . .

A happy, “Hi, Michael!” sings out of a busy little girl and boy on a swing set as we round a corner.

Thank You, Father! And Michael and I walk together to the fenced yard.

“You know Michael?”

“Yup.”

“Where does he live?”

“Down there.” And there follows much finger-pointing along with a description on Michael’s house.

So, we’re off again and up to Michael’s house. His grip on my finger is tighter as we walk across the grass to a lighted side door and Michael’s dad comes over to us.

Michael is reluctant to let go of my finger and I sense some fear. An agreement is discussed with Daddy to have Mommy help him find his girlfriend in the morning. That seems to make it okay to let go. But I was reluctant too.

Down on Michael’s level again. “Goodnight Michael.”

“Goodnight,” he responds, too soberly for only three.

God bless you Michael, I love you.

“Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying: ‘Whom shall I send, And who will go for Us?’ Then I said, ‘Here am I! Send me’” (Isaiah 6:8 NKJV).

“Take heed that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that in heaven their angels always see the face of My Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 18:10 NKJV).

“How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God! Therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings” (Psalm 36:7 NKJV).

Where have you been sent for Him? Or maybe He’s sending you somewhere right now?

{There are three links in this post. One is in the first verse of scripture above. Enjoy!}

Far Above Rubies

 

“Great bursts of light flashed forth from him as from a glittering diamond or from a shining ruby . . . ” (Revelation 4:3a TLB).

“Great bursts of light flashed forth from him as from a glittering diamond or from a shining ruby, and a rainbow glowing like an emerald encircled his throne” (Revelation 4:3 TLB).

God created rubies and diamonds in all their splendor, brilliance, and beauty, but they are only tiny reflections of his glory.

And far above rubies is the wisdom of prayer.

I truly enjoy the rings I wear. Each of them has a story.

But this ring-story is about the ruby and diamond ring my husband gave me on our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.

Jerry and I had taken some time away from work and were staying at our summer place in the mountains of rural North Carolina. We took a break from the painting we were doing and left to pick up a pizza in town. We planned to stop by the recycle center, which was on the way. As we drove, I took off my ring, carefully laying it in my lap for “safe keeping,” while I put lotion on my chapped hands. Pulling into the recycle center, I was distracted and totally forgot about the ruby ring, now hidden in the folds of my long dress. I was focused on dropping off the trash and empty bottles as I got out of the van.

It wasn’t until we were home and had finished the pizza that I suddenly realized my ring was gone! I made a frantic search of the van, hoping, praying, feeling terribly guilty and careless. Then I remembered precisely when and where I must have lost it.

The ring had fallen silently from my lap onto the driveway of the recycle center.

We drove, squealing tires and all, back to the center, where I searched the tarmac to no avail.

. . . However, as I was nose-to-the-ground, searching, I felt someone watching. Paul, the keeper of the center, looked over at me, his weathered face holding a broad grin.

“Did you lose something?”

Did I lose something! Well, the poor guy ended up being hugged after he dug into his shirt pocket, brought out a business card, and handed it to me.

And here’s my miracle, one more answer to my fervent prayers. Sue, a young woman, whose husband had passed away the week before, had found my ring and prayed about what to do. She’d seen the ring on the asphalt drive of the recycle center, sparkling in the afternoon sunshine and thought a little girl must have lost her Cracker Jack© box ring. Picking it up, she quickly realized the ring was no Cracker Jack© prize! She found one of her husband’s business cards with their phone number on it and used it to write a note: Found, lost ring. Call and describe, then she left the card with Paul.

Thankful and elated, I called her and described the ring. We ended up sharing our love and faith and trust in our Lord Jesus. Jerry and I drove to Sue’s home on the tip-top of a mountain to meet her. In spite of her grief, Sue rejoiced with me through tears and hugs as she returned the ring that always reminds me of the first twenty-five years of my marriage.

We are each so greatly beloved by God that he does not want any of us to be lost. The passion with which I searched to find my lost ring reminds me of Jesus’ Parable of the Lost Coin. In the parable, the woman, who lost a single coin out of her set of ten, experienced that passion. I imagine that she hoped and prayed she’d find it, like I did, but Jesus says, she lit a lamp, swept her house, and searched carefully until she found her lost coin. And she was so ecstatic when she found it, she rejoiced . . . well, we’d say partied, with friends and neighbors!

“I say to you that likewise there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine just persons who need no repentance. Or what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? And when she has found it, she calls her friends and neighbors together, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the piece which I lost!’” (Luke 15:7-9 NKJV)

Are you, like me, constantly in awe of how when we live and walk in the light of Christ, that there are no coincidences, and that no detail is too small for God. I love how he weaves the lives of his children into a beautiful tapestry of love and caring.

Have you ever lost, then found, something you treasure?