Finding What You've Lost

I can’t ever remember a summer quite like the one we’ve experienced this year. There have been numerous untimely deaths of famous people in the public eye, as well as those who were “not so famous” but equally as significant to those who loved them.

One particular death impacted me more than all the others this year. No, it wasn’t Michael Jackson, but rather a young man named Dandrick Moton.

Dandrick was only 33 years old when he died from a rare form of cancer that claimed his life almost immediately. Although I only met Dandrick once (through his mother – a client of mine), he made an indelible impression on me. He was a big, strong young man (then in his late 20’s) with a tender heart who loved the Lord unashamedly.

When I received the news of his death, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. Dandrick was a true servant leader in every sense of word. His sudden death didn’t make any sense to me, because I couldn’t have possibly believed his mission on Earth was done. However, I remember once hearing a quote, "We must trust God even when we can’t track him."

However, my major concern was what kind of comfort could I offer Dandrick’s mom. She and her husband had six children, four girls and two boys; but she and her family had not so long ago lost their oldest son in a fatal car accident just three years ago, and now Dandrick was gone.

So what do you say to someone when life, and in this case death, doesn’t make any sense? We’ve heard all the cliches’ before from, “They’re in a better place now,” to “At least they're no longer in any pain.” No matter how you cut it, pain is still pain, and hurt still hurts, especially when it’s unexplainable and unavoidable.

However, when I told my 13-year old son about Dandrick’s tragic death, and how painful it must be for the family to endure the loss, he gently reminded me of something I once asked him, “Do we really lose someone if we know where to find them?” Of course, this comment refers back to the, “They’re in a better place cliché,” but this time it took on an entirely different meaning.

Several months ago, as I was traveling to (Erie) Pennsylvania on a speaking engagement, I lost my wallet. I had to take three flights (one way) just to get there, so I freaked out trying to remember exactly when and where I had lost it. Was it on the plane, in the airport, on the airport shuttle, and if so, which one and where? To make matters worse, I had a substantial amount of cash in my wallet.

This episode was significant, because if you’ve ever traveled by air, it’s almost close to impossible to get through airport security without any form of identification. So returning home seemed like it would be darn near impossible (or at least time consuming). Not to mention the fact that it was after 2 p.m. and I hadn’t eaten yet, because I had no money, and I couldn’t check into my hotel because I had no credit cards or cash. You can only imagine the kind of stress I was under. The only thing that probably could’ve added to my misery was if they would've lost my luggage (which they didn’t, thank God).

My point is this. Here I was in a place I had never experienced before. Here I was dealing with a loss I didn’t anticipate nor could explain to others. Although I didn’t want to worry, I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know what was going to happen. How would I eat, where would I sleep, how would I survive? All I knew was that my circumstances were out of my control, and all I could do was pray and depend on God for help and comfort. And that’s exactly what I did.

Although I was totally helpless, I watch God work in an amazing, yet simple way. My administrative assistant paid for my hotel room with her credit card; the front desk people at the hotel heard about my predicament and gave me food to eat (on credit), and the hotel continually checked on me to make sure I was taken care of. God showed me that he’s the ultimate provider.

But more importantly, long after I arrived in Erie without my wallet, and after several frantic and futile phone calls to Atlanta and Detroit airports trying to track it down, I received a call from Detroit’s Regional Airport that they had found my wallet; cash included.

Immediately, a peace came over me that’s almost indescribable. I still didn’t know how I was going to get through airport security to even get back to Detroit, but I knew everything would be okay. I had a sense of calm.

When my son reminded me of the question I told him, “Do you really lose someone (and in my case some thing), when you know exactly where to find them?"

Although I couldn’t physically get to my wallet in that moment, I knew exactly where it was. Although I didn’t know exactly when I would get to see my wallet again, I knew I would. And even though I didn’t know what to expect when I finally reunited with my wallet, I was convinced I would appreciate having it a little bit more than I did before. And why was I feeling so confident and at peace? Because deep inside I knew it wasn’t a matter of “IF” I would see my wallet again; it was more a matter of “WHEN.” I just had to be patient and believe in the process.

During all of this, God helped me to grow. Before I even knew they had found my wallet, I sought Him and asked Him for peace. I asked him to comfort me and ease my sense of loss. I asked him to help me stop beating myself up over what I could’ve and should’ve done differently to have avoided the loss. And I also cried out to him to take care of me and provide for me, because I couldn’t do it myself.

I know it’s a stretch equating the loss of a loved one to losing a wallet, but when it comes to God, no experience, whether it’s big or small, is ever wasted if we search for God in the details.

As I personally deal with Dandrick’s death in my own way, I can’t help but take comfort in the fact that we didn’t really "lose" Dandrick; because we know exactly where to find him. It’s not a question of IF, it’s only a matter of WHEN. I just pray that God grants Dandrick’s family the patience to endure. Until next time, stay in His grip!