Every year in France there's a
beret throwing contest. That's a hat, for those of you who aren't in the know. The object is to see who can throw the beret the farthest. So, it's that time. People have come from all over Europe to watch the event. The crowd is screaming in anticipation- they all are rooting for their favorite beret-thrower. Suddenly, a hush comes over the crowd as the first beret thrower steps onto the field. He warms up a bit - pretend throws, arm circles, that kind of thing. He winds up; he throws. The beret fetchers run out to the place where the beret lands with their measuring sticks. It's about 200 yards. Wow! That's quite a ways for a felt hat! The beret fetchers walk back and give the beret to the next guy (this is a very special beret - it's not like they have these on every street corner). This guy looks confident. I bet he makes it farther than the last one. Sure enough, after a few warm-ups of his own, he tosses it 220 yards. Amazing! The beret fetchers run the beret back this time (the French are an impatient bunch). But then out comes the third guy. He's a big guy, so it's possible his throw could be the best. He doesn't even warm up. That's a bad sign. But off the beret sails. Into the wild blue yonder. Sails effortlessly...we watch in slow motion as it goes 200 yards, 220, then...wait! What?!? Where did it go?! He threw it so far...he lost it!
I guess it loses a little in the writing, but this was my favorite joke when I was a kid. I laughed so hard. I mean, he lost it! Are you kidding? Hilarious! And yet so sad...he lost it. It was the special beret that was only used once a year in the contest, and he LOST it!
At church today we heard about the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin. If these are important to the shepherd and the woman, respectively, and they go to what some would call extreme measures to find their lost items, just imagine how important the lost people are to God and how hard he "searches" for them.
I'm quite familiar with loss. Aside from the babies that were never born here on earth, I'm prone to losing things. Most would argue that of all things I've lost, it's my mind they miss the most. Haha. But seriously, every day it seems I'm looking for something that I haven't seen in a few days. You would think some organization would help, but my attempts at organization tend to just make compacted piles of junk to look through.
I'm sure some of the lesson we are to learn from the Bible is in working your best to not lose things - to organize things and to teach people so as to prevent loss in the first place. But let's concentrate on what we do when things are beyond help and they go "missing."
Three years ago, we bought a used car. We had to drive separately to pick it up so we could drop off the trade-in. The next day, my keys were nowhere to be found. I know I used them to drive us home, but I hadn't seen them since. I searched for days. Chip even helped. To no avail. I had new keys made and decided it would be ok to not have the others, even though I had some irreplaceable keys on them (so I don't scare people, I won't say how many of their house keys were on the ring!).
Two years ago, I was working. My cousin babysat Sean for me while Chip and I were at work. Somehow in the course of one of those days, she and Sean were playing while watching TV and lost the remote control. This was a special remote control that we got when we signed up for cable, and it was $50 to replace it. Well, we couldn't find the remote anywhere! We looked high and low, moved furniture, and ransacked the whole house for it, but that remote was gone. Figuring it got thrown out with the trash, we ended up buying a cheap universal remote that luckily worked with our cable system.
The point is, I mourned these losses. Just about every time I used my new keys or my new remote, I thought about the missing ones and wondered where they could be and how I could possibly have lost them so easily.
I'm sure you have some stories like that...things just go missing and there's no finding them.
My replacements, while useful, didn't seem good enough. The features weren't as good or as easy, and I couldn't get into some places...and my cute pig key chain was gone!
Since you probably think my sense of humor is terrible, let me redeem myself with another story.
My friend wanted to ask his girlfriend to marry him, but he wanted it to be memorable. He booked a cruise for the two of them across the Atlantic, a trip she'd always wanted to take, and then they would spend some time in Europe. Once on the boat, he worked out a plan with the kitchen staff to put the engagement ring in the lobster one night at dinner. It was her favorite meal, and he thought it would be a perfect surprise!
The night finally arrived, and they got all dolled up for the "captain's meal." He told his girlfriend how beautiful she looked in her red dress (I'm sure he also graced her with a low whistle - do I read too many romance novels?), and escorted her to dinner. He had butterflies in his stomach knowing that this would be a real moment of truth. He thought she loved him, but would she take the plunge? Would she agree to marry him? And if not, it was a smallish ship...what would they do then? She already knew so many of his flaws...
But there were no flaws with the dinner. The champagne was wonderful, the Hors d' oeuvres, exquisite (gosh, I had to spell check that one - I like calling them horsie doovers better!). The salad had just the right amount of dressing, and no yucky cukes. Now, though, it was about time for the lobster course, and he was sweating and shaking during the conversation. His girl even asked if he might be getting a bit seasick or something! The waiter arrived just then with the lobster. It looked so yummyand perfect! He waited while she cracked open the lobster...and then fainted. Because the ring wasn't there. But there was still something...could it be? Yes, it truly was! The beret the guy lost!
Oh, in my youth it was a grand thing that I had such a strong bladder or I would have wet myself I laughed so hard at that! My sense of humor is definitely warped, and I know I probably didn't redeem myself, but I couldn't help it.
I do have a point, though.
About a year or so ago, I was looking for, well, I can't remember what now, I think maybe some jewelry or some money, and I looked in an old basket. I saw something shiny and pulled it out - and it was the key ring I had lost! I laughed and laughed, thinking of the beret joke, and then I celebrated the return of my keys! I think I'm still dancing over those!
Last weekend, I couldn't find my camera. Did I mention I lose things a lot? I wanted to take some pics to post on my blog because Sophie was being adorable. I knew it was home because Chip had used it to show someone some pictures a couple of days before (when the house had been clean). But I just wasn't having any luck! In a moment of weakness, I offered Sean a dollar if he found it. He was ecstatic - woohoo! a whole dollar! So he started looking and I sat down for a minute. I could feel him messing around near the back of my chair (recliner). In just a couple minutes, he said, "Well, Mom, I found something, but it wasn't a camera!" and held up his prize. I turned around, sure I would see some kind of crumb of food - perhaps popcorn - and burst out laughing! For in his small little hand was the remote control we had searched so diligently for almost two years ago! I laughed and laughed...and gave him TWO dollars for that find!
Oh yes, and about an hour later, I found the camera. Luckily I didn't have to wait years for that to re-surface!
How much do we rejoice when the inconsequential things we "need" so badly in our earthly lives are found?
I dance. I laugh. I sing. I jump around. I party!
And yet, so much more rejoicing happens in heaven when God's missing sheep are found. When we give up on ever touching a lost soul, God keeps searching. All resources are used. We may not see the behind-the-scenes efforts that take place, the angels sent for a purpose, the love lavished. But one day, when it's least expected, when you're looking for something else, perhaps... the soul finds his or her way HOME! What a feast awaits! A party! Invite everyone to celebrate, and maybe they'll be found, too.
You could be one of the behind-the-scenes efforts for someone God loves. Are you open to taking the time for a search-and-rescue mission? Have you given up? Or do you have more pressing things to search for, like a remote?...
That's what I got out of today's message, even though it quite possibly wasn't even the direction the paster took - sometimes it doesn't matter if you're listening, as long as you get some meaning out of it.
Right, Mom?
This is Christmas 1976. The first in the "new" house which I live in now...for at least a little bit longer. (and yes, Tena, the spelunkers seem to be visible in this shot! So typical, eh?)
This is in Holland MI at "Tulip Time". I'm guessing this was prior to the photo above...we look so young!
I'm not sure of the occasion, but I swear to you I was just asking my dad less than a week ago if he remembered this Safari toy set, and now I have a picture to prove WE really had this! Or maybe it was Trev's and I just played with it against his wishes...who knows? I just know I played with it a lot in our tire sandbox out back!
Here we are in Storybook Gardens in 1977. We are supposed to be Goldilocks. I think Trevor was whispering to me that the bear was going to get me or something. But this appears to be before his lovingly vindictive years, so maybe he was reassuring me that the bears were fake.
Here we are going over Niagara Falls! No barrel or anything! Weren't we BRAVE?!? Trevor appears to have started his love for surfing earlier than I had remembered, and I my fear of the water! This was on our big trip to NY to visit my dad's uncle LeRoy. We went with my mom and dad, my aunt and uncle, who, perhaps weren't even married yet?, and the two of us in...oh, what was that car?...I think it was a Datsun. Yes, that's it. A tiny Datsun. And I do have a few sketchy actual memories of this trip - heat rash and chiclet gum from a gumball machine at the clothing store where my aunt worked. YUM!
Dad was a big help with her wish to walk, since she's just a hair shy of being able to do it on her own...for more than 3-4 steps anyway.
