The lost is found

By Helen Guilford

When I moved here a little over six years ago, I boxed up some “treasures” and stored them on top of a chest of drawers in the garage. Never gave them another thought. From time to time, my eyes would land on those boxes and wonder, but there never seemed to be any reason to drag them down.

Now, however, I’m in that frame of mind that tells me to go through and sort out for: keep it forever, put it in the trash, put it in the give-away stack or should it go in a garage sale? In other words, it’s time to deal with things I have put off way too long.

With that mind set, I pulled out the plastic tote that was on top. The only surprise there was the things I knew to be in that tote were not! I thought it contained books and notes from a Spanish class I took a few years ago. Well, I wasn’t completely wrong. There was one book for learning Spanish. The rest was other stuff.

The next day, I tackled the boxes which held things that, mostly, I hadn’t missed in the six years since I carefully packed them away. Fortunately, I had placed them in what turned out to be the driest corner of the building. That garage is not water (or snow) proof.

I found a set of three nesting wooden boxes made for me by a nephew. Still in mint condition, I had, on occasion, wondered where they were. Here was the answer – carefully and safely packed away. There were other things, too. Among them was a China container where one could put small treasures.

Now, step back in time with me two or three years. For some reason, I thought about two rings I really cared about. One was my high school senior class ring. I don’t know why that still mattered to me these 70 plus years later, but it did. The other was black onyx.

I looked and looked for them two or three years ago. Went through every drawer or other place I could think of to no avail. In fact, I had looked through some things just a night or two before this. I even looked in the garage as doubtful as that seemed. But all my efforts brought was frustration. Having no children to bequeath things to, I had decided which niece I wanted to have the ring.

Now, after all this time, here it was!

You see, when I was to graduate from Eastern Kentucky University with my MA in Supervision, Mom and Dad said they would not be coming to the ceremony but asked what I would like for a gift for the occasion. My answer? A black onyx ring.

Of course, I received it and, though I can no longer wear it, have treasured it these many years.

Perhaps, God the Father asked His son, Jesus, what gift He would like for His dying on the cross. Jesus looked at the cost to Himself and then ahead to you and me. He might have said, ‘These people are lost! As my gift, I want to be assured every one of them has opportunity to be found – and saved.”

And God replied, “Then, that is My gift to you, my Son. Your shed blood will pay the price of salvation for every one who believes and trusts in you.”

Believe and trust!

By Helen Guilford