THE TETHERING PLACE

If you’ve ever lost something ridiculously valuable, my heart touched yours tonight.

You might know that sinking, pit in the stomach feeling that consumes you as you begin to pray…. “Lord. Help me. YOU know…”

I have had that feeling a few times in my life, the worst being when any of my little men have wandered from sight and been missing for more than 30 seconds. {NOTHING rivals that kind of potential loss.} But tonight was the first time an object played on my heartstrings in a similar manner.

I had spent the late afternoon with music on, sweating, half the time clutching my littlest guy to my hip as we prepped the back yard for our final Young Life Student Leadership event of the year. Rearranging furniture, setting out treats, tossing out blankets and pillows and cutting fresh peonies to welcome my young friends, my hands were in a flurry and I had been all over the house, the yard, the deck.

It was such fun to prepare for them, and despite it being a small and mighty crew that came, conversation was rich amongst these emerging high school leaders and ideas were seeded that I believe are going to result in fruitful ministry for years to come.

As we began winding down, something sharp caught on my finger and I looked down to see my ring… empty.

The diamond Marshall proposed to me with… the diamond with the two little black specks making it brilliantly and imperfectly, irreplaceably perfect… the diamond I have gazed at a million times over and been reminded of the fact that I am chosen despite all my “stuff”… the diamond that once belonged to Marshall’s beloved mom… gone.

I went from heart-full, listening to a crew of high school students dream about the future of their schools over s’mores in my backyard, to hands and knees in the grass, stomach inside out, searching. The precious souls with me searched in the grass as night fell, grabbing flashlights to comb through the blades and praying God would guide our beams.

No luck.

They said good bye and promised to pray and at 9:52 I set out to Target to purchase the strongest flashlight I could find, bug spray, and a bunch of fans due to the ridiculously hot weather we are having in Seattle. I seemed to have a peace about me but doubt  was growing that it was possible to find my precious stone.  Sleep deprived and getting over a cold, I was beginning to unravel with fatigue by the time I checked out and on my way home I took note of the fact that my car was rather well ventilated. I looked in my rear view mirror to see a very unobstructed view of the road behind me… my trunk was open. Yep, I was fully undone.

After stopping to rectify the trunk situation and assure my groceries were still in my possession, I sent an email to my girlfriends to pray, and then shot up a prayer, “God, if I find this diamond, I will know you have got this, got me…”

Can I be honest? Life is gnarly sometimes, and as much as I don’t doubt God’s love for me or his presence in my life, I am in a place of needing confirmation. Confirmation that God cares about the details, that he has not left me to make choices that are too much for me. I so need him! And so my diamond became my golden fleece.

I returned to find my sweet husband, worship music playing, headlamp firmly strapped to his head, laboring over our grass. I doused myself in Deet, pulled out my new flashlight {900 lumens people!} and headed out the door to join him. My feet took me right toward the deck, despite being pretty sure I would find it in the grass; I shined the light back and forth, turned around once, and there, in the middle of the deck {a very beat up deck with lots of holes and bent boards and space for everything to fall through the cracks I might add} the glint of something caught my eye.

The diamond.

I could not believe my eyes. Inches on either side from being lost forever between the slats, there it sat in all it’s glory.

I had not looked two minutes.

The number of people whose prayers had been answered was in the teens, but the care Marshall and I both felt from the Lord was immeasurable.

Found.

My oldest had stayed up to help us and joined in the celebration. It didn’t matter that it was almost 11 and he had school tomorrow. We were kissing and being silly and he said it looked like we’d won a vacation. Priorities changed for a moment. Eight year olds up way past their bedtime mattered little.  What mattered was that what was lost was found.

Could it be that this was the tiniest glimpse of how God celebrates when one of his kids is found?

And could it be that this is how he often finds us? By putting lights in the world in the form of his kids and sending us out to seek what has been lost?

He knows where we are. We may feel “lost” or in the dark, but we are never out of his sight. While He can and will often find us Himself.. in His word, in prayer. I also think sometimes He is just waiting for one of his kids to pray, to listen, to come looking and to shine their light on us so we can radiate in all our glory and be found and celebrated and lovingly restored back to our rightful place in the family.

What a beautiful picture.

What an incredible privilege.

What a glorious reunion.