Where is it?

The past 5 days I’ve had one happy experience after another. It began last Thursday with a flight to Albuquerque, New Mexico, for 24 hours with Susan, a prayer partner from our church in Illinois. We made the most of our time together, including an hour of prayer while sitting next to her swimming pool in the warm desert sunshine.

After leaving New Mexico, I flew to Colorado, to connect with 7 close friends from our years together at Wheaton College: Junior, Pam, Leslie, Cheryl, Carolyn, LeeAnn, and Julie. We enjoyed school memories, did some sightseeing, and caught up on each other’s families, making sure to lay the groundwork for our next meeting in a couple of years.

I caught a ride to the airport in the “early” car, several hours ahead of my departure time, to connect with Sue (another sister in Christ) at the Denver airport. Our 4 hours together were a lovely grand finale’ to 5 days of memorable re-connections with won- derful women.

There was only one flaw. Somewhere along the way I lost my camera, a trusty tool I’ve used for years to take pictures for this blog, among other things. On Day #2 I emptied my purse and suitcase, carry-on and computer bag, pockets and gift bags, but it was nowhere.

Though I could take pictures with my iPhone, the camera card contained important photo files and was easier to use. But after 4 days of searching, I concluded it must have been in my coat pocket and slipped out during travel. The only thing to do was let it go.

I thought I’d mastered that after our 2009 move from a big house in Illinois to a small one in Michigan, paring down our possessions by two-thirds. But releasing my camera was a letting-go I couldn’t master. What was God trying to teach me?

My “girlfriends” and I joked about my inability to stop looking for (and complaining about) my camera. But one of them said, “Release it into God, and he’ll probably bring it back to you.”

That sounded like, “Let’s make a deal, Lord. I’ll let it go, if you make it reappear.” I couldn’t do that.

Finally, after stewing all the way to Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, I surrendered. “Ok, Father,” I said. “I know you want me to let go of my camera, so here and now, I do. It’s gone, and I accept that.” It was a weight lifted.

By the time Louisa and I pulled into our Michigan driveway, I’d completely stopped thinking about it. It had simply been God’s refresher course in holding possessions lightly, a “skill” he wants me to practice regularly.

Several hours later, while kneeling on my bedroom floor pulling things out of my carry-on bag (looking for my phone charger), I gasped as the camera plopped onto the carpet in front of me.