July 26, 2026 - Images of God: Woman with the Lost Coin

I am also the woman kneeling on the floor of her home, lamp in one hand, broom in the other, refusing to stop until what belongs to me is found.

I did not misplace you because I stopped loving you. I search because you matter.

Some would tell me to accept the loss, count what remains, and move on. But I never have measured love by percentages, so why start now?

Its my nature to flip on every light, going to places that are unseen, corners, the margins to look for what feels missing to me. I look into the places others overlook. I search through the dust, beneath the furniture, into the cracks where light rarely reaches. I search patiently, persistently, tenderly. Its who I am, its not a chore to look, its who I want to me.

A coin is so different than when a sheep or kitty gets lost.

I can call for my beloved animals, I can shake the food bag, or turn on a cat video from Tik Tok so they come out to meet a new cat. I know those animals, they likely are under the bed, or tucked into the clothes basket. They know to cry for me if they are really stuck. And when I find her, I scoop her up and hold her close. I am simply relieved because she is home, the time it took to find her is irreverent.

A coin is different. It has no way to say - I am here. Maybe I should have created it differently, but its not going to wander off, its lost without knowing its lost. So, its my job to search and I do so out of concern, but not from judgement or counting off minutes to hold over your head.

I know Jesus was trying to explain how his mom really did this for the coin, but I realize its hard to believe. Even for me, but I am happy to do this kind of finding.

There is nothing better than dusting off a coin that has forgotten its worth.

There is nothing better than finding someone who felt invisible, and now feels seen.

Oh, coins are interesting because they don’t wonder, instead they wait to be used, and sometimes they are outcast to the margins under the seat of cars, or between the carpet and the wall. That’s why I look - its my responsibility that is love. I don’t need you to be shiny, I just need you to be ready.

I remember how much Hosea got slack for saying my words of love. He wasn’t supposed to love his wife, Gomer, she had too little going for her. But he expressed my love for people through his words.

"How can I give you up?"

How can I hand you over?

How can I let you go?

My heart is changed within me.

All my compassion is aroused.

I will not abandon you.

I will not destroy you.

I cannot stop loving you.

I am not a God who easily gives up on the people I love.. My heart aches for people before they even realize you are lost.

I am just so delighted in my people and I delight in loving them, finding them - no matter the circumstance. If they are like wandering sheep, if they feel the need to hide, when they are angry, even with me.

I delight in finding folks who are unhoused, often have fallen through the cracks and have layers of dust that needs to carefully polished. People step over or don’t even seen these people, but I do, as precious people.

I delight in finding immigrants and refugees, they have rolled across human borders and become foreign currency - they can be thrown in the back of the drawer, pushed aside as people look for their own money. People limit these folks to belong, but I hold them to the light and the warmth of belonging.

I delight in finding those who are living with addiction, who often live in the dust and shadows of society, tossed aside as if they are a coin that no longer has worth. People diminish these folks to the darkness, but I celebrate their worth.

I delight in finding people who have been formerly incarcerated, who often have been made to think they are worth less than what is printed on their coin face. People devalue my formerly incarcerated children, but I bring them to equal fellowship.

I delight in finding people who have found out that something about them isn’t the standard cultural norm, who are often made to feel like they don’t fit any of the increments of currency that are accepted, thus lose their value. People belittle others who break cultural understandings, but I welcome their whole lives into being.

And I delight in the people who are sitting comfortably inside their house, convinced that everyone else was the one who needed to be found. Coins never know they need found. They also don’t misplace themselves. Instead, coins often are moved away from the place they are the most useful, seen and known to have value. People forget that its not the coins fault, but I hold onto the innocence.

I wish people knew that this is not exhausting work for me. I don’t want people to apologize when they are found, any more than I want this coin to thank me. Its my joy to be on the look out for you, every sweep of the broom is my hope that you will rest in me soon, any time I spend looking is what some songs call a reckless love, a love that doesn’t make sense, only mine to give.

Oh, I want every coin, every person, to be held up to the light - especially after being in the dark corners of their minds, the cruel world, or other circumstances. I want everyone to know that you are in the light now. I will celebrate over and over when my people are held in the light - really party - because each coin, each person is worthy of joy rather than quiet relief.

Because no one is merely another coin.

You have always been my beloved.

And I will never stop looking for you.