While driving out of the parking lot of the church after a late afternoon meeting, I had a thought.  “Perhaps my bracelet, which I had lost early Sunday morning, had fallen on the ground between my car and the front door of the sanctuary.”  I turned my car around, pulled into my usual parking space, and began to peruse the terrain.  My eyes darted back and forth in a sweeping fashion searching for the treasure.  It had come from my family as a birthday gift.  Treasures are to be cherished and cared for.  I was diligently seeking and hoping to find that which money could not replace.

As I approached the glass doors to the church foyer, my attention was arrested by the sight of a man sitting on the ground and a young woman lying on the pavement with her head resting in his lap.  They had obviously chosen to seek shelter from the hot afternoon sun under the carport canopy in front of our church.  

I spoke a friendly greeting to them.  The man responded and a dialog opened.  He recounted a story of a car accident on Interstate 70 at the edge of our city just the night before.  The woman, who was driving at the time, had fallen asleep at the wheel.  Upon a startled awakening, she jerked the wheel and thrust the car into a spin, which did not end until the vehicle went airborne in a full flip across the median and landed in the lanes of oncoming traffic.  State police arrived.  A wrecker towed away their totaled car.  She was taken to the local hospital and treated for a broken wrist.

Released from the hospital at midnight, the two strangers to our town had begun walking in a thunderstorm and looking for the yard where their car had been towed.  Most of their earthly belongings had been loaded into their car when they departed Ohio for their move to Wyoming.  Any remaining treasure that had not been scattered along the highway during the accident would be in the car.  

Their long night had yielded no fruit.  The junk yard was closed on Sunday; no motorists had been willing to give them a ride; no pedestrian would even stop to give them directions.  Undoubtedly, their appearance had seemed threatening.  They were disheveled and dirty.  Their overall persona testified that their lives had been wrecked many times before their car had been totaled.

That Sunday afternoon, as I searched for my treasure, I discovered two souls.  Literally lying in my pathway and on my doorstep were two lost treasures.  Had I found my bracelet, I would surely have taken it to a safe and secure location.  Could I do less for these human treasures?  

I placed them in a hotel.  A clean bed, a shower, hot food, and a safe haven is little comfort when all is wrecked; but at least it is comfort.  A pharmacist friend helped fill a prescription for pain medication for the young lady’s freshly fractured wrist.  A staff pastor helped procure transportation to return them to home and family.  Within 48 hours of the accident, they were again on their life journey.

Most lost treasures are not dropped on our doorstep.  Last Sunday afternoon, in search of an earthly treasure – my bracelet, two fractured, wrecked, lost treasures miraculously found their way to the doorstep of my church.  It was there, by the mercy of God, that they were provided the opportunity to find eternal life, which is a lasting treasure that can never be lost.

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The Sounds of Christmas

    One radio station in the St. Louis area has dedicated the whole month of December to play only Christmas music.  I can jump in my car to head for work and, in just that short ten-minute trip, be transported... Read More

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