This is the first of a three-part series on loss, a lost trilogy if you will. I’m not one to mourn over things gone by. In the words of the apostle Paul:
Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before,
So this is really the first of a three-part series on miracles that started out looking a lot like loss but actually turned out to be divine intervention.
Volume 1: Lost Treasure
Many years ago I found myself fresh out of university, holding a spanking new undergraduate degree, no job to speak of and experiencing the usual financial dearth that tends to accompany that sort of thing. I had a very promising younger sibling who had been given the opportunity of a lifetime. This opportunity came with a little sting in the tail, as such things tend to do. Nothing in life is ever easy, is it? Sibling needed to move to an expensive city for a while, which meant short-term apartment rental (money), new wardrobe (money), groceries (money), utilities (money), transportation (money). You get the idea.
I shook the moths out of my bank account and the lint out of my pocket and smilingly told Sibling to go ahead and accept the offer by faith. I knew God would come true for us, regardless of how bleak the situation seemed.
My mother was ill at the time and so everything had come to rest on me. I said a prayer and went to my bed. Sleep came easily that night, and I was no more troubled than on any other night.
As I slept, I had an unusually vivid dream, the kind that doesn’t feel like a dream and that stays with you for years, maybe for eternity. A presence or a person, I can’t say which as I didn’t see anyone, so for accuracy’s sake I’ll denote it an angel, came to me in the dream and told me to get up. In my dream state I complied, although I’m certain I was still asleep and lying in my bed.
“Your mother has lost a treasure,” the angel said, “and I’ll show you how to find it.” (paraphrased)
I got out of the bed in the same dream state and saw myself walking from my bedroom into my parents’ room. I saw myself retrieve an old suitcase from the top of the closet. It was one of my mothers’ old suitcases from when she was a much younger woman, a distinctive mud-colored thing she called a “grip.” I looked through its contents and found her long forgotten treasure.
The angel told me four numbers and I understood that they were important and that I needed to remember them.
With that, the dream ended and I slept through the rest of the night without stirring.
When I awoke the next morning, I remembered the dream and ran into my parents’ room, grabbed the suitcase and feverishly pawed through it contents. Sure enough, my mother’s lost treasure was right where I had seen it in the dream, but it was locked. I needed the combination to get into its contents.
My mother couldn’t remember the combination, but I recalled the four numbers from the dream and I suddenly understood what they meant.
Those four numbers unlocked the key to some money that my mother had long forgotten she had. Guess how much it was? That’s right, my mother’s lost treasure was exactly the amount Sibling needed to pay the rental on the city apartment. Not a cent more and not a cent less.
God is still in the miracle-working business.
Stay tuned for Volume 2 of Serially Lost.