When searching, do I know what I’m looking for? If so, where do I look? Will I recognize it when I see it? I could be looking for diamonds and throw away a dirty, misshapen million-dollar rock.
The interior of the three-year-old custom van still smelled new. After completing the purchase, I got a single, loose key.
On the way out to dinner that evening, I handed my son the key so he could drive. “Don’t lose this,” I said. “It’s the only one I have.”
After eating, we enjoyed the luxury ride home. Since our other cars needed driveway access from the garage, my son parked on the grass. He was already headed toward the house when I yelled, “Hey, I need that key.”
He pitched it to me.
In the dark, I barely glimpsed the key. I felt it hit my hand but couldn’t see where it fell. I ran my fingers through every blade of grass near where I was standing. Not there. I searched again. Still not there. We pulled the cars out of the garage and turned the headlights onto the area. I widened my search to the point of absurdity. Apparently it had vanished into thin air. “It has to be here,” I said. “But either I’m blind, or it isn’t here.”
Late that night, I emptied everything from my right pocket. I seldom kept anything in my left pocket, but I felt a coin there. How did that happen? How had the key gotten there? Defying what had to be less than one-in-a-trillion odds, it must have bounced off my hand and into my pocket. Unbelievable.
If only I had known to check my pockets, I wouldn’t have lost hours searching in all the wrong places. But who would’ve believed it was possible? That’s the problem with blindness: we don’t always know what we can’t see.
In my searching, I must always have the Lord’s help. Otherwise, I could spend the rest of my life searching but never finding.
“If you were blind,” Jesus said, “you would be blameless. But because you say you can see, you remain blind.” — John 9:41