In yesterday’s sermon I told a story from my daughter’s childhood—it is always good to check with your spouse or kids before using them in an illustration, but Rachel signed off on this one years ago.
When Rachel was about two, maybe three, we moved to the Raleigh-Durham area of North Carolina. I was serving as the part-time outreach minister for a church just off the campus of UNC. Pat was seeking whatever work she could find as a teacher. We had just enough to survive so we found ourselves often window-shopping in the malls. On one particular occasion, the mall was hosting a sports card show. Since my wife loves sports, it did not take long for her to lose herself in the moment. Because of her excitement, I was soon there, too.
However, in a short period of time, Rachel slipped away from us. She was gone. We panicked and began a frenzied search for her, enlisting along the way any that would help us. During moments like this, time seems to stop and last forever. To this day, I can’t really tell you how long it took for us to find Rachel. Anxiety had seized us so that we were immobilized. Worse case scenarios began to fill our heads.
Time snapped back to normal when our daughter’s laughter came filtering down across the mall hallway. You can always distinguish your child’s laughter in much the same way that you can hear her in a room full of children. It was a joy to hear her laughter, but we were amazed to see her walking between two women. These strangers had found her and were seeking to help her. I never knew the strangers’ name; I wish I had. On that day they were some of the most important people to have entered our lives. They reunited our lost child with her parents.
Later, as I have reflected on this event, I’ve begun to see it as a parable for the church. In the same way these women restored our daughter to us, so it is God’s mission for the church to bring lost children back to their Father.