J. Barrie Shepherd is a talented, retired Presbyterian minister and poet, who recently published a poem called “Remembering.” It starts out with these lines:
Where I left the car keys, the remote for the TV, that letter from the lawyer, my spectacles and pills…
I must have left my gloves somewhere, and as for that umbrella that the kids gave me last Christmas…
He goes on to talk about the “dreary ransom of hours spent searching pockets, drawers, desks, and sofas to locate whatever’s missing.”
We joke about losing things (“It must be around here somewhere!”) and about entering a room and immediately forgetting what we’re doing there. We shrug it off as simply a result of trying to do too many things at once. Or we nervously fret about it as a warning sign of aging and the inevitable decline in our mental facilities.
Shepherd’s poem goes on to ask whether there is some sort of heavenly “Lost and Found,” where a sympathetic clerk efficiently moves past shelves and cubby holes to return to us precisely what we were looking for. And then comes a very poignant, closing question: If such a place existed, what would I ask for first?
What would you ask for? Let’s assume this clerk is able to find the keys, remotes, gloves and scarves we have mislaid over the years. But would we only ask for those things? Wouldn’t we also ask about that photo of a past relative, that recording of a departed family member’s voice, or that fading memory of childhood involving a family trip, a shared meal, or splashing in a pool with friends? What we ask for first reflects what we truly value. Might that request be guided by a desire to reconnect with what is most important in our life?
The month of April includes the conclusion of the season of Lent and the joyful celebration of Easter Sunday. It has times of darkness, such as when we remember Jesus’ Last Supper and time on the cross, as well as times of wonder, light and resurrection life. These weeks are a perfect time to pause and wonder what we would ask for if we truly stood before the counter of some heavenly “Lost and Found.” Maybe we would ask for a misplaced trust, a lost confidence, or a mislaid hope that we once carried around but now have difficulty putting our hands on.
The message of Easter is a “first request” message. It is the voice saying to us “Do not be afraid.” It is the rolling away of stones and the pushing aside of shrouds to remind us that something more powerful than pain and death is at work in our world. It is the rediscovery of what we know deep in our soul—the good news that in Jesus Christ we are connected to God’s eternal love and steadfast mercy. So before you expend too much energy looking for those keys or the spare umbrella, first remind yourself of the life-giving message of our faith: Christ is risen! Go forth this month trusting in this Easter good news!
—Randy Bush