lost and found

I sat down at my desk with wide eyes. How does the stack of papers representing new cases get so large over night? Is someone playing a trick on me and dumping their work load on top of mine? I glanced around at the other cubicles hoping to catch some snickering jokester. No. everyone’s mound of incoming papers was just as tall as mine. One coworker who caught me comparing workloads raised his eyebrows to his assignments and shrugged. Sad because the papers represented the lost. I looked at the second stack, those that I had resolved, this stack was miserably small. Oh, I should have a better attitude. Every time we found a missing person we all shared in the victory celebration. But finding the lost meant so much to me I was disheartened by the ever growing list. Well, I better get started, I sighed. These cases weren’t going to get solved by themselves.

I read through the cases, pleas from concerned citizens about loved ones, neighbors, foreigners, a cousin of a milkman’s sister’s nieces schoolmate,(boy that was going to be a hard one to trace I thought, slipping that one to the bottom of the stack – hey, I’ll get to it!) Great, Boss just happened to stroll by at the wrong time (for me, not for him as his timing is always meticulously perfect.), I sheepishly replaced the work order in its correct sequence, Boss nodded his approval and continued through the aisles to offer assistance where needed.

Time to do the footwork, I mused, downloading my assignments onto my palm pilot which I slipped into my trench coat pocket, setting my Kojak relica hat atop my noggin, and taking off, but not before fanning my wings for effect, toppling over a filing cabinet or two and scattering paper work off nearby desks raising howls of protests from already overworked friends, tautly stretching the line of friendship. Can I help if it I was blessed with huge wings? Oops, better get out of here before Boss catches me in a moment of self pride.

My first stop? Federal prison. Mike J. (sorry can’t give last names, got to protect the guilty) was about to attend his first Kairos meeting. That’s a trained organization of volunteers that does prison ministries for truly hardened criminals. Incorrigible criminals selected by the cynical warden and politely offered an invitation for a four day bible vacation class. Criminals deemed irredeemable, (irredeemable: not able to be improved, corrected or made good). That word doesn’t exist in Boss’s vocabulary! Mike was a repeat offender, drugs, car theft, assault with a deadly weapon, bank robbery. How did he think he could rob a bank today? This isn’t Bonnie and Clyde’s’ era, what with cameras, lock downs, swat teams and the internet he didn’t stand a chance, but hey, criminals don’t have brains compressed with smarts. (p.s. let’s not forget, Bonnie and Clyde didn’t wind up so well ending up as human sprinklers, watering the road with blood.)

I found Mike J. surrounded by his cronies, invisible forces (invisible to him, not me.) Forces from the dark side, a place in existence way before the legendary Star Wars movies, who had been his mentors for most of his life. I was not permitted to mess with Mike’s free will, however, I could block the attacks…er… guidance of these diabolical influences, armed with the prayer requests of Mike’s unrequested supporters; family, friends. Even victims.


I watched as Mike enjoyed the meals cooked and served by the volunteers. Watched as he read prayer cards set down by his plate from prayer volunteers. I listened as the volunteers preached to, sang to, and loved the prisoners. But mostly I fended off the cronies constant attempts to infiltrate Mike’s mind by flicking them off his shoulders with the tips of my enormous large wings. I didn't even have to leave my position from back of the room! One of me to six of them. The odds weren’t favorably stacked. They really needed back up I thought, not too modestly flexing my wings, my enormous wings. Well, this warfare wasn’t intended to be fair. Cronies were headed for a big time let down (let down to the pits of hell) in the not too far future; this was just one small squirmish.

With unfettered use of his own faculties Mike discovered he actually enjoyed his time in bible studies. He actually enjoyed it. It brought back memories from his preadolescence; happy years before he succumbed to bad influences. And no one was more surprised than him (or the ever skeptical warden who’d seen many jail house conversions) when he accepted the invitation on closing day to accept Jesus as Lord and Savior. Ouch! Boy did the cronies explode into uncontrollable rage, they weren’t skeptical, they knew they genuine article, knew and feared it! Cronies cursed, they spit, they ranted and raved, and they sizzled (but not as much as they will in the not too far future, hee, hee.). I disregarded them and no one else noticed them, being invisible and all! Boy that added petroleum to the fire; no one likes their anger to go unnoticed! They lost a puppet, someone they could manipulate to their evil wishes. But Mike won. Mike was found. My job here was done. On my palm pilot I copied his name, deleted it from the lost list and pasted it to the saved list. Boy I love this gadget.

My next stop? A nursing home. Here was a dying woman recently placed on hospice who’d been praying for forty four years. Forty four years of faithfully praying for her lost children. This prayer request had appeared on my desk repeatedly for just as many years. Now it’s time has come to be answered. Not all prayers get immediate resolution but they all do get resolved. It’s a shame our experience with time varies from realm to realm. These poor creatures of clay, dirt, and mud have no way to conceptualize eternity, timelessness. Not while they are in their bodies of clay, dirt and mud. But talk about tenacity. This lady had bushels of tenacity, she was relentless in her prayers. Now she was going to be so blessed! Thank you Jesus, I muttered to myself, for letting me be a part of this.

Ellen was in her eighties now, her mind was gone, ravaged by Alzheimer’s, all recent events erased from memory, but the long term memories were still there. Illness couldn’t claim her relationship with the God of her youth, the God she’d worshiped for over eight decades, and she still spoke to him, though those around her assumed she was demented when her lips moved in silent prayer.

Ellen called out her children’s names, one by one begging God to let her see them one more time. Her sister, Carol, hardened over the years, sat by Ellen’s bedside shaking her head. “Good grief Ellen, how can you call on God after all these years? He let you down! He let us down! Stop it!”

It was time to bring closure to this ordeal so I texted the office for help. The reply came back swiftly. “Sorry, busy cleaning up mess in office.” Attached to the message was a picture of papers strewn over the floor and file cabinets laying about the office, while co workers tried to sort out which papers belonged on which desk.

Oooh! I pounded my forehead with my palm. I really can’t help it if I was blessed with such big wings. After some more texting I finally got through to someone willing to give a hand then I retreated outside and trained my eyes on the sky from wince would come my reply. I was looking for four puffs of …wisps of …there they were! Four dancing, zig zagging wisps of clouds; one large, three smaller powder puff shaped, dancing, frolicking fluffy white apparitions making their way downward unnoticed by humanity. The three small clouds lighted on their feet in front of me, all glowing with excitement and playfulness. Not a trace of pain or remembrance of their last earthly ordeal was registered on their countenance; they just had plain exhilaration plastered on their childlike faces. Their escort landed next to them a few seconds later, winded from the games of tag and catch me if you can, they played on the trip down. After all she wasn’t a young angel anymore; let’s see the earth was created…when? Oh, no I'm not going to be the one to reveal that secret! Anyway we were even older than the foundations of the earth. I remember having to dodge the flying rocks and debris created from the big bang. It was a blessing to have fantastically large wings then, to shield me from flying projectiles.

And now i was once again grateful for my large wings so that I could embrace the three little wisps that were clawing at me for attention yelling excitedly, "Is it time? Is it really time?" Such exuberance!

I pointed them towards the nursing home window where they caught sight of their mother lying in bed, lips moving in prayer, eyes locked on a picture set on her night stand next to their aunt Carol who was still attempting to orient Ellen to time and place, trying to get Ellen to understand that her children wouldn't be coming to the nursing home, that God had abandoned them all forty years ago. She was such a kill joy, not letting Ellen harbor any hopes of seeing her children again. The picture in question was taken days before the three children were mysteriously abducted and jointly murdered and buried in a yet undiscovered location. I was there that day, to shepherd them home to the great shepherd, but not before I deposited their slayer on the ocean's floor chained with a mill stone attached to his neck where he resides to this day and for all eternity being shown the mercy he exhibited while on earth.

"Oh, look, she still has our pictures!" Janet the oldest at nine announced stepping through the wall into her mother's room, followed by her young brother age seven and sister age five.

Ellen's rheumy eyes abruptly focused on her visitors and clarity returned to her. "Carol, they're here! My babies are here! Praise God!"

Carol, truly exasperated, practically yelled in her frustration, "Ellen, they died years ago when God left us flat and dry with no answers. Don't talk to me about praising God!"

Whoa, that outburst kindled my ire causing me to flap my wings, my big wings, which sent the treasured framed photo crashing to the floor, shattering glass everywhere. Carol jerked in reaction to the destruction of the frame and bent over to retrieve the faded Kodak paper.

Suddenly inspired and not calculating the risks I decided to react on my own, imagine that! As Carol rescued the photo I allowed the images of Janet, Greg and Judy to come to life, but only briefly, leaving room for Carol to doubt her own eyes. Gasping she let the photo flutter back to the floor while she exclaimed," Ellen, you're right, they are here!" I'd never seen anyone so far from dying turn so white. I had to suppress my inner satisfaction.

Ellen however was unable to respond to Carol's affirmation as she had stepped outside of her mortal shell and was embracing her three long lost children (might I add, lost to her, not us here in heaven). These joyful reunions always caused me to weep like a baby. Hey, its ex-mortals that can't cry on this side of life, we angels however come with unlimited supplies of joyful tears.

I couldn't wait to leave gloomy-gus Carol behind and get to the office to put the finishing touches to my reports.

Boss visited me at my new cubicle, the one my fellow laborers set up for me far, far from their desks where my beautiful, large wings could spread out as much as they wanted without causing collateral damage. I accepted this cubicle in lieu of the ghastly aternative that was suggested; getting my wings clipped. They even actually hung a pair of framed shearing scissors here to keep me fore warned. The purpose of Boss's visit was to congratulate me on three jobs well done today.

"I’m sorry, sir, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but there were only two, Mike J. and Ellen."

"I definitely mean three. Look at the next name on your list." Boss encouraged tapping my stack of assignments with the rusty nail he always carried around with him.

I picked up the top sheet, it was the horrible vague prayer request for the cousin of a milkman’s sister’s nieces schoolmate. After reading the submitted supplication, the one that I had earlier slipped to the bottom of my stack, I frowned deeply, still not understanding. Boy am I obtuse.

Boss said one word, “Carol."

Oh my gosh. I hid my face behind my wings. Ellen's sister. After Ellen died, with a smile on her lips, Carol recommitted herself to Jesus on the basis of having seen her nieces and nephew one last time! On the basis of seeing Ellen's answer to forty years of faithful praying. What I had done to be spiteful had yielded positive results. I started to apologize profusely for acting unprofessional but Boss put a halt to that, with him there are no accidents up here in heaven's lost and found department.
math 18:6
mark 9:2
gal. 3:3
titus 2:14
Heb 1:14
Rev. 20:10
Rev 21:8