Last week, my Bible study had us look at the three parables contained in Luke 15:1-32. The first is about a man who had a hundred sheep, but when he lost one, leaves his flock to rescue the one lost sheep. When he finds it, he calls his friends and rejoices with them. The second is about a woman who had ten pieces of silver and loses one and when she finds it she calls her friends and rejoices with them. And for some reason these stories make sense to me.
The third story is the parable of the prodigal son. And I struggle with this story. I find myself empathizing with the older brother who stayed home and didn’t understand why his Dad would celebrate the younger son’s return after he squandered his inheritance on wine, women and song. Although it’s more likely that I would have been the wanderer, I get why the older brother was upset.
But losing things is something I understand all too well. I hate to lose things, and the older I get the more often I do. I lose my glasses about 5 or 6 times a day. And the only reason I keep a landline phone in my house is so I can call my cell phone when I lose it. I’ve designated a drawer in the kitchen for keys and that seems to be working. And if I lose my car, my key has a panic button that I can hit and the car will flash its lights and honk its horn, so that I can find it. Here I am, mom.
I take in stride now, this losing of things, but there is one thing that I hate to lose and that is an earring. In point of fact, I don’t like to lose a pair of earrings, but that never happens. And on the rare occasion when it does, I shrug it off. They’re gone. Mourn for a bit, perhaps buy another pair, and get over it. But when I lose one, it makes me crazy and I keep the sole survivor for years - expecting - as if by some kind of magic - it will miss its mate so much, that it will come back. Viola!
At the moment, I’m down to three favorite former pairs: one small white pearl earring and one little black onyx earring in silver and a diamond and silver rectangle that is quite lovely. It has a great sparkle although not too much for daytime wear. I lost its mate a few days ago.
Sometimes, I don’t remember how I lost the one, but this time I do. I’d fallen asleep with my earrings on and one was poking me, so I groggily took them off. And I had them both in my hand when I fell asleep again. When I woke up in the morning, I remembered them. And I found one right away as soon as I rolled about of bed. Then, I rummaged around in the sheets and blankets for its partner, but no. I got down on all fours and searched under the bed. I double checked the three (yes 3) little crystal containers on my nightstand that double as jewelry boxes. No. It’s gone.
Until yesterday. Yesterday, I did a load of white clothes – some panties, a blouse, and a few tank tops along with a pair of socks. Happily, both of the socks made it out of the washing machine, into the dryer and ultimately into the clean laundry basket. That in itself is amazing, but don’t get me started talking about the missing sock syndrome. I think it has to do with ufos and government secrets. But this time, as I pulled out one of the socks from the washer, something poked me and I instantly recognized that poke. That is the same poke as the earring that had poked me last week. And sure enough, inside the sock was the missing little diamond rectangle – with all the stones intact perhaps even a bit shinier having survived a trip thru the washer.
So, I’m blogging about it – which I imagine is the new millennium equivalent of telling my friends and rejoicing.
Hallelujah!
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