A local parable

Last Sunday I looked for my favorite spring "church coat" only to find that it was not in my closet. This was distressing, as I had been away the previous Sunday and therefore had not had the opportunity to see if my coat was at church then. After checking my closet repeatedly to be sure I wasn't just missing something, I decided to demonstrate my faith that the coat would still be hanging up at church by not wearing another coat to church that morning. I was cold that Sunday, a coldness that saddened me because it reminded me of my carelessness with my personal possessions, a coldness that reminded me of every person, place, and thing I had ever lost in all of my life. (A physics major would probably have shrugged all of this off and picked out one of the other coats in the closet.)

I sent emails to several people, including the church secretary, inquiring about the coat. The secretary sent an email to everyone on the mailing list. The one response put forth a theory I had dreaded: my coat had quite probably been donated to a thrift store. My church meets in a school, and the school's semi-annual donation to its thrift store of choice had taken place recently.

Anger mixed with sadness as I railed against the donation system as well as my own ability to keep track of my belongings. I mourned the coat, which had once belonged to my mother and as such had sentimental value beyond the sentimental value I assign to virtually everything I own.

I called the school and took down the name and address of the thrift store. I drove there after work to find that it wasn't open late enough on Tuesdays or Wednesdays to enable me to make it out there. Disappointed, I left my car running and walked right up to the windows, peering inside at a rack of coats near the window in a vain attempt to locate mine.

Tonight I tried again. "You're really desperate over this," my brother said jokingly, but if I had left any stone unturned I would always have wondered what could have been.

Also, I wouldn't have found my coat.

YES!

The coat was there! Not on the rack that was visible through the window, the rack in the "boutique" section, but with the more humble coats towards the back of the store. The women at the cash register let me have it back for free because I had "donated" it.

As I drove home, secure in the presence of my coat on the seat beside me, one sentence kept running through my head: "Rejoice with me, for I have found my coat which was lost!"

"In the same way, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents." – Luke 15:10