Posts Tagged ‘Risk’

Finding the Lost

October 21, 2010

Recently, we received an envelope in the mail addressed to us…sort of.

The home address was right, and my husband’s name was right, but instead of my name it was the name of some other woman.
Now, before you begin to think this is scandalous, let me explain: There is another couple living in our area in which the husband has the same name as mine, and our last names are the same. Because of this we sometimes get a phone call or an invitation in the mail that is actually meant for them instead. In the case of the phone calls we explain that we are the other Dickersons, and in the case of snail mail mix-ups we can usually track down the sender through the return address and set them straight as well.  Unfortunately, we don’t know their address and therefore we’re unable to forward their mail directly to them.

Anyway, this recent envelope is a little different. It looked official, and was addressed specifically to them by each of their names — unlike other mail for them we’ve gotten that was addressed to “The Dickersons”  or some other less specific thing. So we KNEW it wasn’t  for us, so we looked at the return address: No business name, only the street address. Since it was so official looking we decided we really needed to get this one set straight, so I Googled the address.

Sigh. It’s an office building with 20 different offices in it! Because the return address lacked a name it would be fruitless to “return to sender” because there’s no way to tell who sent it! That meant taking the time to call each and every number until we found the office that sent the letter. Sure, we could go the easy route and open the letter to look, but we don’t want to nose into somebody else’s business, nor do we want to get into trouble! But….we didn’t have the time to go calling all of those offices. And an official matter could be time sensitive. Eeesh!

I opened it, with much trepidation.

In respect for their privacy we won’t reveal the nature of the letter, but it was certainly something that was very important for them, and it was time sensitive. So I called the office at the top of the letter head and explained the situation. I helped the lady on the phone sort out which address and phone number was ours, which was theirs, and whatever else needed to be straightened out.  In the end it sounded like she now has the correct information and is able to contact the correct Dickerson family for their official business. She also told me to toss the letter we received, so we shredded it.

And God showed me a quiet lesson in this: The other Dickerson family was lost, and we helped them get found. Their being found helped avert a burdensome consequence if they had remained lost. My hubby and I feel “warm fuzzies” for finding them and helping them out, even though they are complete strangers to us.

Now, if we can get these “warm fuzzies” for one single act of saving a stranger from a destructive outcome, imagine the magnified feeling Jesus Christ had upon seeking out and saving EVERYONE from the curse of destructive sin! Sure, my husband and I can pat ourselves on the back for our singular good deed — but what we did is nothing compared to the magnitude of Christ’s salvation! After all, we didn’t really save anyone, we simply headed off a major inconvenience — certainly not in the same league as what Christ has done!

And one can’t even begin to imagine how awesome and extraordinary Jesus must have felt, knowing that millions and billions of people have been released from absolute destruction simply because he sought them out and saved them!  God also reminded me that only love would compel one to seek out billions of people to save — even if that meant being ridiculed, beaten, and murdered for it. And I realized that I can never compete with that level of love! I mean, yeah, I’d certainly die for my husband and kids,  and I’d likely risk my life to help a stranger in the face of death; but would I be as willing to die for millions of people who absolutely hated my guts?

It’s a very humbling thought, indeed.

So, yeah. We helped a stranger, and it was good. But what we did was merely a molecule in the ocean of love that is God.

Let’s not forget that ocean. Let’s remember to immerse ourselves in that ocean.
God’s love is not something to be ignored or forgotten.
Amen, and Hallelujah.


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