When I was young, I remember playing with one toy, which always captivated my attention. What captivated my attention about this toy was that you could throw it with all your might in any direction, but somehow it always made its way back to you. Yep…you guessed it… the boomerang. I don’t know the scientific word, but I am going to call it the boomerang effect. For the last couple of years, Laurie and I have found ourselves living in this boomerang effect. But instead of throwing a toy into the air, we have been releasing our three boys into this new experience called college. Each one of them, for a variety of reasons, has chosen to go away from home for college. This is how the boomerang effect has played out for us. It’s really very simple. You send them off and you miss them. Then you adjust to them being gone. But right when you adjust to them being gone, they come back home again. That’s an oversimplification, but I think you understand where I am going. Basically, you are living in the boomerang effect, knowing two things are for sure: 1) they will leave again, and 2) they will come back home again.
A couple of weeks ago, our youngest son came home for a visit. You can always tell when your children are home from college by looking in the laundry room. Everything went well over the course of the weekend. Sunday afternoon arrives; he gets in the car and heads back to school. All is good! Right here is when you insert Lee Corso’s familiar line from college game day, “Not so fast, my friend.” (Google it if you are not getting the reference.) The next day, my wife and I get a text message. This is how it begins, “have you guys seen my _______?” Now is a good time for me to pause.
I need to give you some background information. There is nothing that makes me lose my religion more than losing stuff. And over the years, as a family, I cannot count how much time I have spent looking for lost items. My sweet wife’s perspective on hearing the words, “Have you seen?” is to reply, “Oh, I am sure it will show up.” On the contrary, my response is, “Oh, something else we already lost.” Then I go around the house like a tornado, turning over everything in my path until I find it or not. On the surface, you may appreciate my intentionality. But what you need to know is that on a deeper level, my motivation is to look for what is lost. My attitude, that’s what needed to be adjusted. As my mom would tell me growing up, “You need an attitude adjustment.”
However, on this day as I read the words, “Have you guys seen my _______? I have looked everywhere for it and cannot find it.” I did something in all the years my children were in the house that I didn’t do. I simply paused. I didn’t respond to the text thread. I didn’t rush home to look. I didn’t even think to myself… “here we go again.” I sat in the silence. As I sat in the silence, I looked right in front of me. On the wall in front of my desk is a picture of the father holding the prodigal son when he returned home.
My mind immediately went to Luke 15 and the three familiar parables I have heard repeatedly. You know them all too well: the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son. Before, when I read these stories, my attention went to the rejoicing of what happened when what was lost was found. But on this day, what connected with me was the motivation each had while looking. The man looking for his sheep, the woman looking for her coin, and the father looking for his son were all full of compassion. Compassion while looking for what is lost. No anger…No angst…No agitation… Only compassion!
I eventually made my way home from work. As I pulled in the driveway, I asked God to give me compassion as I searched for what was lost. I didn’t experience anything dramatic because of my prayer. But gradually, as I was looking for what my son had lost, the anger, the angst, the agitation began to slowly fade. Compassion began to rise in my heart. A couple of minutes later, I found it! I knew my son needed this lost item for school. I decided the next day after work, I would make the drive to give it to him.
I arrived at his campus around dinner time. I took him out for dinner. As I was dropping him off at his dorm, he said these words to me, “Dad, I know you get frustrated with us when we lose things, but I appreciate you finding it. Thanks for bringing it to me.” Simple words, but profound words. As he was getting out of the car, the boomerang effect hit me. It was never about finding the lost item; instead, it has always been about finding the lost person who has lost their way. And on this evening, I was the lost person who had been found. God finds His home with His people. It felt good to be back home.