Though it
was several years ago, I can still recall the panic I felt that day as
I
searched my house for the misplaced envelope containing six hundred
dollars. Frantically,
I dumped drawers and searched the desk where I usually put important
papers.
As the mother
of three young children and the wife of a school teacher, I knew
how much we needed that money. I knew how far off our next
monthly payday was.
I prayed,
and so did our whole family. All our family prayers centered around
pleas
for help in locating that envelope, yet we received no answer.
I wondered how I could
have been so irresponsible. We needed that money in order
to pay bills and buy food.
Time passed, and each day frustration and fear took a greater hold
on my spirit and my
faith. The lost money occupied all my thoughts.
A few weeks
later on Sunday, I remembered that a visiting teaching message
meeting would take place before Relief Society. I decided
I would be better off at
church than at home worrying about the money, and I managed to get
all three children
into the nursery and slip into my seat just the teacher began her
lesson. She was reading
the parable of the lost piece of silver from the Bible. (see
Luke 15:8-10).
Suddenly it
was no longer just a parable, but an instant replay of the past three
weeks at our house, where nothing had been left unturned and where
I had spent long
hours trying to reconstruct my actions.
Then the Spirit
whispered that while the Savior sought after the lost soul, I had
been seeking the piece of silver. I realized that if I used
the same energy to find the
sisters I was assigned to visit that I had spent trying to find
our six hundred dollars, I
could truly magnify my visiting teaching calling.
Tears ran
down my cheeks as the lesson hit home, and I knew something good
would still come of the experience. The panic and the self-recrimination
were gone, and
I knew through the peaceful reassurance of the Spirit that somehow
all would be well.
For the first
time in weeks I felt really happy again. The children sensed a
difference. When we got home, we all knelt together, and 4-year-old
Spencer prayed
once more that we would find our money.
Then we got
up, and with no conscious thought, went to our seldom-used front
entry closet. There on the top shelf was a book with the envelope
of money sticking
out of it. Prayers had been answered, a lesson taught, and
the money recovered.
Today, our
two older children bear testimony to the younger ones that Heavenly
Father does answer our prayers, and I understand in a much more
personal way that
the worth of souls is great in the sight of God.