I still remember the day it went missing, around seven years ago. I was so angry, sad, upset and disappointed. I told my younger brother to take any bible from my bookshelf except for the white one. And which one did he take? The white one.
You see, this wasn’t just any bible. It held a certain sentimental value. Not only was it a gift, but it was the bible that helped me grow in my wisdom, faith and love for Christ. I turned to it in times of joy, sorrow and despair. I know it seems silly but I really loved that bible. And I was so upset when it was lost it that I openly vented about it to my YFC household, close friends and even sometimes, strangers. Hahaha. I begged my brother to retrace his steps to find it and after a lot of searching, I had to bitterly accept that it was lost.
Three years later I visited a church while in Singapore and unexpectedly stumbled upon the exact same version of the lost bible – colour, size and everything. I opened it up but the inscription wasn’t there. I flipped through the pages and my favourite bible verses weren’t highlighted. I don’t know what I was expecting considering it was a brand new bible, but it just wasn’t the same. After a few minutes of contemplation, I bought it anyway. “It’s time to move on.”, I thought.
Four years on, which brings us to just last week, I was having one of the most difficult weeks I’ve had in years, mentally. To say the least, I’m going through a hard time in my life right now due to my employment situation. And because of this, I found myself getting lost and turning away from those that love me the most, especially God. But deep down I knew that life outside my mental illness wasn’t going to wait for me, so I tried to go about my daily life as if I was ok. One night, I called one of my SFC household members to see how she was doing. She was moving into a new house and told me that while looking through her boxes, she found a bible she initially thought was hers. But after opening it to see the inscribed message on the first page, she realised it was my long lost bible. Lost, but now found.
I honestly don’t think it was a coincidence that this beloved bible that I had lost all those years ago just happened to be found again at a time of despair and hopelessness in my life. A few days later, I was reunited with it, and I can’t begin to tell you how much joy it brought me, especially when I found all the little pieces of paper, book marks, tabs and highlights that personalised my faith companion. I couldn’t help but be reminded of the parables of the lost coin, sheep and prodigal son. Imagine the happiness He feels every time we decide to turn back to Him again, to be found again.
When I first started driving, which was long before Google Maps/Maps was invented, I always had a ridiculous fear of making the wrong turn, thinking that if I take that wrong turn, I would’t have a chance to turn around again. But we do. God gives us a million second chances because He loves us that much. Whether we’re on the path of destruction, of faithlessness, of hopelessness, for a couple of days, a week, a year or our whole lives – we can still be found.
“For the Son of Man has come to seek and save what was lost.” Luke 19:10
Found again, – M.