Tuesday, August 18, 2009

lost and found

It is 2004. We are moving. Packing or unpacking, I don't remember. One of the kids wants to borrow a knife to open a box or cut tape after packing a box. I give them my Dad's knife to use.

Mistake.

My Dad was very proud of his knife. All men carry a pocket knife. Don't you know that son? It was an old timer brand knife. It was a big one. Expensive. Dad had sharpened it so many times that the shape of the blades were changed by his work.

Packing or unpacking was done, I inquired about the knife. No one knew where it was. What? WHAT? My Dad died two years ago. This was his knife.! Where is it! No one knew.

I stewed and suffered. I was angry. I gave them grief. I would not have been proud of myself had a video been taken.

Flash forward. It is 2009. Someone is cleaning their room. Looking through something that they have not been through in a long time. They come downstairs. "Dad, this is a cool knife, where did it come from?" Well, honey, that was PaPa's knife.

Excitement! Joy! The lost has been found. I mean I am so glad to see that knife!!!

As upset as I was over the knife being lost, I was ecstatic over it being found. Let me show it to you sometime.

And so I understand the joy that God has when a lost sheep comes home. When a lost coin is found. When a lost son comes to his senses.

It's a beautiful day in God's world, be sure to see the good.

1 comment:

chigger farmer said...

Pocket knives, grown men and boys just go together and create good memories. The story of your father's lost and found knife reminds me of a story about a pocket knife and my late husband.

Bill had a this small knife that one of our visiting nephews really admired. He knew our nephew was too young to have one, and so he made a deal with him.

He said that he would hide the knife in the ductwork of the guest room, and it would be there waiting for him the next time they visited us.....IF he could remember it was there. I wasn't in on this arrangement, and our nephew didn't tell anyone else either. It was a special little thing just between the two of them.

Many years later when my family came to visit....this particular nephew went directly to that room of our house. I can just picture him going over to the floor vent, and recovering that dusty pocket knife. To him it was a long awaited treasure, and a verification of faith that it would actually be there. And from that moment on, those two had a special bond of delayed gratification,trust and promises kept.

Finding your Father's lost knife uncovered special memories of him and connected them to your children and the future! Neat - I know your story will resonate with a lot of people as it did with me!