LOST AND FOUND

After serving coffee and biscuits to eight missionaries in our village home in Java, I collected the tray of dainty cups and saucers, and plates, and walked to the outside kitchen.

Light rain, having fallen on the walkway, made me slip and fall. The tray of crockery crashed to the ground, where it splintered into hundreds of tiny pieces on the cement path. My precious crockery.

One set was a birthday gift from my dear, godly father, who had died two months previously. And I prized the dainty rose set as an engagement present, while several were wedding gifts. I cried, as I realised, too, the loss of the green china teacups trimmed in gold, given by christian friends in Adelaide to ensure beauty on our table in our village home.

As I fell, my helper, Rukini, rushed to my aid. As she helped this eight-month pregnant Aussie lady to her feet, she almost wailed as she cried with me. ‘Aduh!’

(how terrible ), she mourned, as she swept the pieces into a can, and threw them clanging into the garbage bin.

When my husband heard the crash, he hurried out to survey the devastation, and to comfort me. Coincidentally, the men were discussing how lightly we should hold the things of this earth, taking joyfully the spoiling of one’s goods. I was not particularly happy about proving the reality of their discussion.

But I treasured my ’things’ for their sentimental value. And as a remembrance of the affection of family and friends. For days I grieved over my irreplaceable treasures.

One morning, in stubborn grief, I read, ‘Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.’ Now there was nothing inherently wrong with the teacups and plates, but my love for my coveted crockery disturbed my peace of mind and heart. When I recognised that dilemma, confessing my sin to God, and accepting His forgiveness with a contented and peaceful mind, I was able to happily serve cups of tea or coffee in kitchen cups.

Then there was that ill-fated jar of Vegemite in the kitchen cupboard. This precious commodity which arrived in a Christmas parcel from Australia, we spread carefully so as to prolong its lfe.

One day Rukini, my helper, accidentally knocked the precious jar, which also shattered, leaving a sticky, black mess embedded with grass. Rukini knew how we valued that spread, and probably recalled my reaction to the cup crash. She may have thought I would be angry, as she cowered and groaned, ’Maaf, Maaf, ( I am so sorry. I am very sorry.)

At that moment, the Lord’s grace and love overwhelmed me, and in Indonesian fashion, I held out my upturned palm, and said, ’Tidak apa apa.’ (Do not worry. It is no consequence.) I reassured my valued helper that it was an unavoidable accident. My acceptance of Rukini was more important than the vegemite jar.

The following day an Australian nurse visited. Unpacking her case, she asked, ‘Could you use a small tin of peaches and this jar of vegemite?’ I thanked the Lord that His grace enabled me to accept Rukini’s accident with the Vegemite, else I would have spoiled the miracle of God’s providential supply and my christian testimony and attitude to Rukini.

It seemed that God was teaching me deep lessons in the mundane events of life.

Weeks later, our daughters decided to check the cases and boxes in the small storeroom. Mould usually forms on clothing, leather and books in a humid climate. As our girls searched the containers, I heard a shriek, as I walked towards the room, with the accompanying comment, ‘What will Mum say?’

‘Try me’, I said, pausing in the doorway, then gasping as one of our daughters held, by each thumb and forefinger, a shoulder of my simple, but precious wedding dress. Numerous, ragged holes indicated a gourmet meal for a hungry rat. If only I had stored it back in Australia. But it was too late for ‘If only’s .‘ We all cried, and my husband carried on a stick rather ceremoniously the garment so precious to a wife, and burned it in a little fire.

Yes, although very disappointed at the loss, I affirmed to our family that happiness in not the product of ‘things’, but in our relationship to our God, our love as husband and wife, and their parents. ’Happy is the man (and woman) whose God is the Lord.

God prepares us for the crises, so that the man and woman who walk with the Lord will know His path in the dark.

On our return to Australia, after five beautiful daughters and one fine son, we all rejoiced in the birth of Philip Mark. His distressed breathing and blueness alerted us to a serious abnormality with our dear babe. I tube-fed him dripping my expressed milk into a funnel. That took time with a busy family to care for.

An artery to his lungs had not closed at birth, making an uncertain future for little Philip. And as well, I shook anxiously as I inserted a tube into his stomach six times a day. I fervently prayed that I would not insert the tube into his lungs, distressing the babe. Oh, how gladly I asked my medico husband to help when he came home to lunch or the evening. At times, he left a busy consulting room to help me.

But at five months, God tenderly took baby Philip to Himself, where God’s eternal presence was exchanged for difficult breathing and tube feeding.

We grieved and cried, often awakening at night to the fancied cry of a baby. But heaven is his home, and we were comforted that little children will be playing in the streets of heaven.

Yes, while we may lose things, we find greater possessions. Material things are just belongings. With a family of six active children, I heard many more accidental crashes over the years.

‘The Lord gave life - He took life‘. Blessed be the name of the Lord.’ But God’s love is unchangeable. We find ever-abiding peace, and rich comfort for human loss.

Loss is exchanged for the ‘found’, when faith rests in God, and we find grace through Jesus Christ as Saviour, and the power of the Holy Spirit who personalises our relationship with God.

Keep close to your all-sufficient Lord during the crises.