Celebrate! What once was lost is now found! The story Jesus tells about the woman who lost a coin and, later finding it she ran to share the good news with all her friends and neighbors—that’s exactly how I feel right now. My wedding ring went missing, and I truly thought it was gone for good. I believed I had lost it somewhere in the yard, and the chances of finding it felt slim. If you’ve ever lost something valuable to you, you know the kind of pit-in-your-stomach feeling that comes with it. But by God’s grace, it was found—and I can’t help but rejoice like the woman in Jesus’ teaching!
That joy I felt, gave me a fresh perspective on what Jesus says about the rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents and returns to God. If I can be so ecstatic about a ring—how much greater is the celebration in heaven when a soul turns to Jesus? How much more valuable are people, who God treasures far above sparrows and lilies?
It reminds me of the song “A Lil’ Church (Nobody’s Too Lost)” by TobyMac. In it, he shares about feeling overwhelmed, empty, and stuck in the wilderness. I know the panic I felt when I lost something so dear to me—but have you ever felt that panic when you were the one who was lost?
I remember being a child and getting separated from my parents in a grocery store. It was terrifying—not knowing where they were or how to get back to them. That kind of fear sticks with you. But the kind of lost that TobyMac describes is even deeper. It’s the soul-wilderness, the kind of lost that can happen anywhere:
It could happen on a dirt road
Or a crowded coffee shop
Yeah, the church I need is the hands and feet
Of a God who came to love
He’s not singing about buildings, pews, or sermons. He’s crying out for the kind of church that meets people where they are—the kind that reaches into the wilderness with open arms and compassion. The church that goes after the one, just like Jesus does.
So I ask: how good are we, as the church, at being that kind of presence? Do we notice the ones who are hurting, ashamed, or wandering? Are we willing to be the hands and feet of Jesus to guide them gently back to Him—not with judgment, but with love?
My prayer is that God would give us eyes to see the lost, ears to hear their silent cries, and hearts willing to act. May we be a family that celebrates each return, each redemption, with the same joy as heaven. Because what was once lost has been found—and that is always worth celebrating.
