"A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove... but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child." ~Forest E. Witcraft

The quote that is the title of this post is actually a slight variation of the end of a brief essay called, "Within My Power," by Dr. Forest E. Witcraft, who was a scholar, teacher, and Boy Scout executive.  His essay was first published in a 1950 issue of Scouting Magazine, and it reads as follows:

"I am not a Very Important Man, as importance is commonly rated. I do not have great wealth, control a big business, or occupy a position of great honor or authority.  Yet I may someday mould destiny. For it is within my power to become the most important man in the world in the life of a boy. And every boy is a potential atom bomb in human history.  A humble citizen like myself might have been the Scoutmaster of a Troop in which an undersized unhappy Austrian lad by the name of Adolph might have found a joyous boyhood, full of the ideals of brotherhood, goodwill, and kindness. And the world would have been different.  A humble citizen like myself might have been the organizer of a Scout Troop in which a Russian boy called Joe might have learned the lessons of democratic cooperation.  These men would never have known that they had averted world tragedy, yet actually they would have been among the most important men who ever lived.  

All about me are boys. They are the makers of history, the builders of tomorrow. If I can have some part in guiding them up the trails of Scouting, on to the high road of noble character and constructive citizenship, I may prove to be the most important man in their lives, the most important man in my community.

A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove. But the world may be different, because I was important in the life of a boy."

I read that passage at Caleb's Eagle Scout Court of Honor several years ago, as I thanked those who influenced our boy in his young life.  But it came to my mind again a few weeks ago as we gathered in College Station to celebrate Caleb's graduation from Texas A&M University.

So many people have been (and are) important in the lives of my children.  When Sarah, Becca, and Caleb were young, not only were their parents and grandparents invested in their lives, but many of our friends made it a point to really KNOW our kids - to be involved in their lives, and to make them a priority.  Friends who attended ball games, school plays, marching events, band concerts, and graduations - some who traveled many miles to do so.  These friends remembered birthdays, provided comfort at the loss of a grandparent, and worked at making fun memories with them.

As our children left the nest and moved into their college world, this group of important people broadened for them.  Their Christian family grew as they got to know good, godly people who loved them and embraced them into their families.  Friends who were there during break-ups, the stresses of school, surgeries, and again, the death of a grandparent.  Godly people who set an example, provided guidance, and became family to our kids, when their blood family was many miles away.

And now, as all of our kids have entered their post-college adult lives, that circle of important people continues to grow for each of them.  What a blessing.

I am thankful beyond description for those important people in the lives of my children - you have helped them in ways too numerous to mention.  You are loved greatly by them, and by their parents.  And your influence and encouragement to them cannot be measured - they are as far along on their paths of faith as they are because of you.

But as I contemplate all of that, I need to take it a step further - - what about me?  What kind of influence am I having in the lives of the little people that make their way into my world?  Am I "important" in the life of a child?  Am I taking the time to invest in the lives of precious children in such a way as to build relationships with them, encourage them, and help them as they grow and develop their faith?  I plan to make more of an effort to do that, and I hope you will, too.

“I love these little people; and it is not a slight thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us.” ~Charles Dickens

"Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one." ~Jane Howard

Yesterday was Mother's Day, and my Facebook news feed blew up with posts and pictures of my friends with their moms and children.  Some were funny, all were sweet, and I enjoyed seeing all of it!  My own children put together this very thoughtful video for me . . .


I am blessed, and most of the people in my circle of friends and acquaintances are equally blessed with loving families.  And being surrounded by such a family oriented community, I often take this for granted.

However, on Saturday afternoon, I saw another side of life . . .

Sarah & Ryan were visiting, and we went out to Lake Tyler to enjoy the nice weather and try out Jeff's new canoe.  Jeff, Sarah & Ryan loaded up and headed out for a nice, leisurely trip across the lake, while I sat back in a lawn chair to enjoy the quiet solitude that comes with being on the shore.  I was ready to enjoy the sights and sounds of waves gently slapping the shore, boats passing in the distance, birds flying and chirping, frogs hopping and croaking, and the gentle rustle of leaves as the wind blew through the trees.

Ahhh, such peaceful relaxation awaited me, or so I thought.  However, as my family rowed away and I settled back in my camp chair, the sights and sounds I anticipated were far from my reality.

About 50 yards to my left, three people sat together on top of a picnic table.  Two young men, and a young woman.  They were loud, and obviously inebriated.  Further down to my left was a tent, and near that campsite sat a man and two women.  At first, I couldn't hear much from this group, but that soon changed.

Shortly after my family departed in the canoe, one of the young women from the tent group walked over to the picnic table group.  She loudly told them that although she didn't know them, she thought they "looked like nice people."  She said she "needed a break from the drama" of her tent group, and then she went on to (loudly) tell her new friends all of her camping friends' troubles - about how she had to come out there that morning at 9 a.m. to settle their strife, and how when she arrived, they were walking around naked and she had to get them dressed . . . She also said, "I just want to get them home without them going to jail."  All of this was laced with expletives.

Before long, tent woman and picnic table people were sharing beer and laughter.  Then, things took an ugly turn . . . one of the picnic table men stumbled (literally) over to the man and woman sitting near the tent - the two who had previously been described as "walking around naked" earlier in the morning.  Words were exchanged between the two young men who didn't know each other - loud, profane words.  And, as expected, it soon escalated into punching and kicking.

At this point, my happy little family returned from their peaceful excursion.  (Well, mostly peaceful - I later learned that the tent people had yelled expletives at them as they rowed past.)  

As I contemplated whether or not to call the police to report these people pummeling each other, the fight quickly broke up, and the picnic table group got into their car and left.

Jeff and Ryan loaded up the canoe, we departed the lake for Braum's ice cream, and enjoyed the rest of our afternoon.

I've thought a lot about those people at the lake the past two days.  Especially as I consider the stark contrast between the people in my world, and the way those people we encountered at the lake live their lives.  I wondered about them yesterday - as we gathered with our church family to worship God, I wondered what they were doing, and how they were feeling.  As I thought back on the memories we made with Sarah and Ryan the previous few days, I wondered about those groups at the lake - would they even remember what had occurred in their lives on Saturday?  They were obviously intoxicated, so probably not.  And if they do remember, what kind of memories will they be?

Then, I wondered about their Mother's Day.  The people in my life, for the most part, have happy families.  I somehow doubt those young folks at the lake have warm, loving families.

So what's the difference?  I do not want to in any way imply that we are "better" than those people at the lake.  We are all human beings, created in God's image, and given the same Savior who died for us.  We are all sinners in need of that Savior.  The difference is that the people in my circle of life have chosen to follow Him.

When we choose to follow our Creator, to do things in His way, to pattern our lives after our Savior, and to teach those things to our children, we will be blessed.  God's way is always best.

So as I begin my week, and think back over the family memories I made over this previous weekend, I am a little more thankful -- thankful for the parents who raised me to honor God, and for my children who have chosen to follow God in their own lives.  I'm trying harder to not take those blessings for granted.  And most importantly, I will strive harder this week to be a light to those I might encounter like the unfortunate souls we saw at Lake Tyler on Saturday.  How sadly miserable those people must be.

“But the lovingkindness of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him, And His righteousness to children’s children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments.”  ~Psalm 103:17-18

"...And she loved a little boy very, very much - even more than she loved herself." ~Shel Silverstein The Giving Tree

Caleb was home last weekend, and it was much like it has been since he began college.  We had a productive weekend of traveling to Irving to help him find an apartment, as he prepares to graduate from Texas A&M University, and begin his first job with AMN Healthcare.  We walked his dog, caught up on the latest news, and (as we always do when Caleb is home) we laughed.  A lot.  But this visit was different, even if no one noticed but me.

Four years ago, Caleb left home to attend college.  That was an adjustment for all of us, but one we easily embraced - he joined his sisters in College Station, and although I missed him, I always knew that this was home.  He would be back for extended stays - summers, winter breaks, spring breaks.  Yes, he had a "home" in College Station, but it was always temporary.  THIS was home for him.  Until now.

Signing the lease agreement for his apartment - no cosigner needed!

Sunday night as Caleb put the finishing touches on the last project of his college career in our living room floor, I bent down to kiss his bearded cheek goodnight.  And when I did, I made a conscious effort to take it in - the feel, the smell, the sound of it all.  I've kissed that cheek at least a million times before.  At first, it was a pudgy little baby cheek, that smelled so sweet, and I couldn't get enough of!  Eventually, it grew into a usually dirty, sometimes smelly, and occasionally scraped up cheek of a growing boy.  I went from holding the owner of that cheek, to having him wriggle sitting beside me, to sometimes chasing him down to kiss it.  My posture changed from leaning down to stretching up to reach that cheek when he's standing - all 6 feet, 2 inches of him.  But as I kissed that familiar cheek Sunday night, I knew that although there will be other "goodnight kisses," they will be given when he visits, or when I visit him.  Soon he will have a new home.  A new permanent address.

And those hands.  Sunday evening in worship, as I stood beside him and we bowed our heads for the closing prayer, he reached and took my hand.  As his large hand enveloped mine,  I remembered reaching down to take the small hand of a wiggly little boy - a hand that was once so small, it could only grasp a few of my fingers.

Then, on Monday morning he left to go back to College Station, as he's done numerous times over the past four years.  But in THIS parting, I hugged him a bit tighter, and a little longer, fully savoring that moment.  And my gaze lingered a little more as he drove his beloved "Clifford" (his big red truck) out of the driveway and disappeared down the street.  The next time he comes, he will be a college graduate with his own home in Irving - one he is paying for himself.  (I'm not feeling too sad about that last part!)

My boy has grown into a man.  There is great pride and satisfaction in that.  From the outset of this adventure called parenting, Jeff and I have raised our kids to leave.  Our goal has been to equip them to live in this world on their own.  To raise them to be self-sufficient.  Caleb is ready to do that, and this mom could not feel more blessed.

So at this time of reflection, thankfulness and celebration as a chapter of Caleb's life closes and a new one begins, I might feel a twinge of sadness.  But that is greatly overshadowed by the joy and excitement I feel as my son moves on into his young adult life.

Caleb.  We chose that name for a reason.  In Numbers 14:24, God describes the biblical Caleb this way... "But my servant, Caleb, because he has a different spirit in him, and has followed me fully..."  That has been my prayer for our Caleb for the past 22 years - that he will have a different spirit, and follow God fully.  And while I am proud of the young man who has earned his Bachelor's degree in Communication; the tall, brown-eyed Caleb who never meets a stranger, seeks to serve others, and enjoys life to the fullest; I am most proud to know that my son "follows God fully."  He is living up to his name.  As his mother, I can ask for nothing more.

So, next week when I watch him cross that stage, and I leave College Station knowing that my recently graduated son will be moving to his new home the next day, I will smile and be thankful.  And I will look forward to his visits to our home in the future.  Because as much as life is changing, one thing will always remain the same - the roots my children have here, the memories that fill our home which bind us, and the deep love our growing family shares.

Congratulations, Bud!  No mom has ever been more blessed than me.  Stay strong, serve God, and enjoy your new home.  Oh, and one more thing - please don't try kayaking in those canals in Los Colinas, no matter how great the temptation might be.  Trust me on this one . . . ;)

"There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children.  One is roots, the other is wings."  ~Henry Ward Beecher

"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." ~From the television show The Wonder Years

Today is my daddy's birthday.  And every year since his passing, I have thought about him on this day in a special way.  At first, April 19th brought sadness.  But as time has passed, that sorrow has changed to sweet memories, and overwhelming gratitude for that life that began on April 19, 1935 - a life that has been the greatest influence on my own, and one that overshadowed, loved, guided, and blessed my life for my first 37 years. 

As I think of my daddy today, the picture to the right is how I remember him.  This photo was the last one ever taken of him - a quick snapshot that seemingly caught him by surprise, from a family reunion just a few months before his death.  He was 68 years old when he passed suddenly and unexpectedly from this life, so he is forever 68 in my mind.  But today, he would be 80 years old.  As I think about that I wonder . . . what would he look like now?  How would his health be?  Would he still have that sharp, intelligent mind?  And would his fascination with nature, space, history and books still be as vibrant?  Would he still be gardening, woodworking, fishing, and hunting?

Forever 68.  And though in many ways, it seems like he hasn't been gone for that long, a lot has happened in the ensuing 12 years.  When that tragic accident occurred in 2003, our girls had just turned 13, and Caleb was 10.  Now, the girls are 24.  Both have graduated from college, Becca is working on her 2nd degree, and Sarah is married with a baby on the way.  Caleb is 22, and will graduate in a few weeks from Texas A&M, and is looking for his first "big boy" job.  That's a lot of time and living!

As anyone who has lost someone special knows, I think of my daddy most during those big moments of life.  I think of how proud he would be of his grandchildren, and all they've accomplished.  Mostly he would be proud of their faithfulness to God.  I thought of him when Sarah told us she was pregnant, and imagined how excited he would be to become a great-grandfather.  He would've been a great one indeed, because he was a wonderful Papa.  And I have no doubt he will be in my thoughts in a few weeks when our family gathers to watch Caleb walk the stage and receive his Bachelor's degree.

I also thought of him a lot last weekend.  Jeff and I went out to dinner Sunday evening after worship services with some life-long friends of mine - - friends who knew and loved my dad for almost as many years as I did.  While discussing some events of that day, these friends said, "Your dad would be really proud of y'all."  That meant a lot, because I always wanted to make him proud.  I still do.  And it touched me to know that Jon and Betty thought of him in that way.

So today, on what would've been his 80th birthday, I am thankful, and the memories make me smile. I'm thankful that on April 19, 1935 a baby boy was born in a little frame house in Kilgore, Texas to Clifford and Miriam Meadows. Thankful that I was blessed with the best I could've ever hoped for in a father - a man who loved God above all else, and led his family to do the same, and I am forever appreciative of all I learned from him.  Thankful that I had him for 37 years - I know many who have not enjoyed that much time with their parents.  Grateful that my children have their own cherished memories of their Papa, and thankful as well for sweet friends who remember him, and continue to share their memories and thoughts about him.  But I am most thankful to my Heavenly Father who provided a way of salvation, and that blessed hope of being reunited with all of the faithful one day in eternity.  We will have a lot of catching up to do.

May 1994
One of my favorite places to be - the backyard swing with my daddy

"Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes." ~Gloria Naylor

"It's such a grand thing to be a mother of a mother — that's why the world calls her grandmother." ~Author Unknown

January 31st was a special day.  Of course, any day that finds the five people I love most in this world in the same place is special, but on this particular day, we had all gathered to celebrate Caleb's birthday a few days early - a fun birthday celebration for an exceptional boy!  However, as we gathered that day from four different locations, I had no idea just how distinctly memorable that day was about to become!

We met up at Caleb's apartment, and from there we went to watch a young friend play in a high school soccer game.  After that, we went out to eat lunch.  As always, the conversation flowed, laughter and warmth were palpable, and it was so good to share this time and space with my precious family!

After lunch, we went to Caleb's apartment to share our gifts with him.  I sat next to Caleb on the couch as Sarah handed him a gift bag from her and Ryan, with the instruction to open it last.  So, when the time came, Caleb took that last gift, reached into the bag, and pulled out a mug.  As he silently read the words written on it, his mouth dropped open, and he began to scream (as only Caleb can).  Since I was sitting beside him, I saw it next - the words on the mug simply said, "UNCLE CALEB - <3 Baby Renz"  And instantly, I knew.  It didn't take long for everyone else to figure it out, and the next few minutes were a blur of screams and tears and hugs and more tears, (with Caleb's roommate, Cody, watching us all from the couch, thinking we were crazy!) as our family rejoiced over the news that in late September, a new little life will enter this world - Baby Renz.

Jeff and I got mugs, too - Sarah put "Grandpa" & "Grandma" on them, because she didn't know at that point what the baby will call us - we have since decided on "Pappy" and "Mimi."

Just two days after we received this joyous news, Sarah and Ryan visited her obstetrician, and I received this via text message . . . The first picture of my first grandchild . . . and my tears flowed again.  (With twins on both sides of the family, I think Sarah was crying tears of relief that there is only ONE baby in there!)

And now - FINALLY - after more than five LONG weeks of secrecy, we've been given permission to share the wonderful news that in late September, Ryan and Sarah are having a baby!  As I write this, Baby Renz is about the size of a fig, and almost fully formed.  According to babycenter.com, this little one's hands will soon open and close into fists, tiny tooth buds are beginning to appear under the gums, and some of the bones are beginning to harden.  Baby Renz is already busy kicking and stretching. Truly, this child is "fearfully and wonderfully made."  And loved.  So very much loved...

I've written here before about the love of a mother for a child, and how every mother knows what an overwhelming and indescribable love that truly is.  And I've heard so many people say, "Wait until you have grandchildren!"  I'm just now beginning to grasp a small inkling of what they mean. 

My oldest baby is having a baby.  She now knows by experience exactly how I felt when I first saw the plus sign on that stick, and the unspeakable joy (and fear) the first time I saw her little heartbeat on an ultrasound image.  And soon she'll know - really know - how it feels to sense your baby move inside of you; how overwhelmingly indescribable it is to hold your baby for the first time; how you can love that little person so much that it literally hurts; and how it will change her life forever, as her heart will soon be walking around outside of her body in the form of this child.  I am so excited for her to have those ineffable realities, and to finally know by experience just how deeply and passionately I love her - - because she will have that same love for her child.  She already does.

So to this yet unnamed child, I will simply say you are so loved and blessed already!  You will be born into a home where God is honored first.  You have a daddy who loves and cherishes your mommy, and who will train, teach, and lead you to know your Heavenly Father.  You also have a mommy who loves your daddy, and who will be committed to doing the very best for you in every area of life - she's already given up coffee for you!  She will nurture, love, and teach you daily as you grow to love God, and to serve others, and I'm also quite sure that she will teach you two languages simultaneously.  I have no doubt that you will have the best parents ever.  And you are also already loved so much by your extended family on both sides - the "first" on our side!  The reaction of each of us to the news of a new baby in our family spoke volumes of the love of these people - my family - for each other, and for you!  And on the Renz side, you will be welcomed by loving and experienced grandparents, an aunt and uncle who know all about babies, and four fun cousins to play with.  How blessed you are!

I sustain many relationships in this life that I hold dear.  It is a blessing to be a child of God, a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, an aunt, a niece, a cousin, and a friend - I treasure each and every one of those relationships more than words can say.  But now, . . . NOW - I get to be a Mimi.  Even typing that word makes me smile.  I better get busy on that blanket I am cross-stitching - September will be here before you know it - - and it can't come soon enough!

The circle of life . . .
Rocking and singing to Sarah - January 1991

"What children need most are the essentials that grandparents provide in abundance. They give unconditional love, kindness, patience, humor, comfort, lessons in life. And, most importantly, cookies". ~Rudy Giuliani

"Men are never duly touched and impressed with a conviction of their insignificance, until they have contrasted themselves with the majesty of God." ~R.C. Sproul

I talked to Jeff this morning.  It was Friday at 10:00 a.m. here in little Whitehouse, Texas, and my day was just beginning.  But he's already lived most of his Friday - it was 9:30 pm where he is in India, and he was wrapping up his day, preparing for bed.  Thinking about that staggers my mind.  It gives a tangibility to the great size of this world we live in.  Jeff is on the other side of the world, and that seems very, VERY far away.

But as BIG as this earth feels to me right now, consider this . . . you can go to this website (disregarding the evolutionary commentary) and see visual comparisons of the relative smallness of this planet on which we live to the rest of the universe.  Seeing things like that makes me realize how small I am in the big scheme of things.

Not only does the relatively small size of the earth cause me to feel a bit insignificant, but think about the magnificent number of people on this planet.  By most estimates, I am one of over seven billion people in this world.  To help give some perspective on how BIG seven billion really is, if I decided to count aloud every number between six billion and seven billion, it would take me 30 years!  Also, if you have a thimble that holds two milliliters of water, seven billion of those would fill at least five Olympic size swimming pools.  That number is staggering, and it makes me feel small.  It also makes those people who glory in having thousands of Facebook friends seem not quite so popular after all!

But, guess what?  No matter how small I may feel in relation to the universe, the God who created and sustains it all knows my name!  When Moses interceded for the Israelites after they had fallen into idolatry, God told Moses in Exodus 33:17, "...for you have found favor in My sight and I have known you by name."  That concept continues throughout the Bible.  Nahum 1:7 says, "The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble, and He knows those who take refuge in Him."  Psalm 139 gives great assurance that God knows and sees everything about my life - He even "formed my inward parts" as He "knitted me together in my mother's womb."  As Jesus described His relationship with us as the good Shepherd in John 10, He said, "I know my own..."  What a marvelous thought!

Last night in our ladies' Bible study, we talked about the sin of pride, and how we need to reach a "spiritual equilibrium" as we consider ourselves in relation to God and this world.  As I look at the world - the expanse of the universe, and the billions of people who dwell here - I see myself as small, finite, dependent, limited in intelligence and ability, prone to sin, and soon to die and face God's judgment (Heb. 9:27).  However, I am also God's child - I was created by Him, am loved and redeemed by His grace, and I have been gifted by Him with certain unique abilities, resources, and advantages, which are to be used for His glory.

So when I am feeling far removed from the one I love most in this world, or those times I might be feeling small and insignificant, I will remember this - God is my Father.  I am His child.  He knows my name.

"God loves each of us as if there were only one of us." ~St. Augustine

“Don't gain the world and lose your soul; wisdom is better than silver or gold.” ~Bob Marley

Recently while vacationing with my family in Colorado, I wore thick gloves, and kept my hands in my pockets a lot.  Such is necessary when the temperature is two degrees below zero!  On one particularly snowy, blustery, cold day, I pulled off my gloves in the car, and noticed something was missing.  While everyone else in my family proudly wears an Aggie ring on their right hand, my ring finger usually bears something equally special to me – my mother’s ring. 

About twelve years ago, my family decided to get a mother’s ring for me for Mother’s Day, and they included me in that endeavor.  I remember how all five of us went to the jewelry store, and how Jeff and the kids helped me pick out the perfect ring.  We decided to make it a family ring instead of just a mother’s ring by including all five of our birthstones.  They also helped me place the stones – three sapphires for Jeff and the girls’ September birthdays, an aquamarine for my March birthday, and a single amethyst for Caleb’s February date.  I love that ring.  Not for the gold or the precious stones, but for what it represents – five people, knit together through blood and a lot of love.  Those three sapphires and the amethyst represent the people I love most in this world.  Wearing it helps me remember how greatly blessed I am to be the wife and mother – the aquamarine stone – in this family. 

But that day in Colorado, as I pulled my hand out of my pocket, I noticed that the sapphire on one end of the ring – Jeff’s stone – was gone.  One of the prongs had broken off.  The stone itself was very small, and I figured it was gone forever, but I decided it would be worth the effort to explore my pocket thoroughly anyway – and to my great surprise and joy, there in the bottom corner of my pocket, I felt the small bump of that precious stone.

When we returned home, I took my ring and the misplaced stone to our local jeweler to have it repaired.  And in the course of my conversation with the jeweler, she strongly recommended that I also allow them to replace the prongs of my engagement ring which hold a solitary diamond.  I have worn that ring every single day for the last 28 years, and the prongs were becoming quite fatigued.  To me, it was worth the extra money to have that ring repaired as well.  Again, not so much because of the precious stone, but for what that stone represents – Jeff’s proposal, my acceptance, and the 28 ensuing years of life with that very special man.

As passionate as I am about those rings which symbolize priceless relationships, I am even more passionate about the people they represent.  And in considering those thoughts, I couldn't help but be reminded of Luke 15 - the "lost" chapter.  In those parables - from the lost sheep, to the lost coin, to the lost son - Jesus impresses upon His audience how precious those lost ones are to the Shepherd, the woman, and the Father.  They will stop at nothing to find that which is lost - - hence, our Father will stop at nothing to have us in a right relationship with Him.  What a beautiful thought.  And shouldn't I feel the same way about the people I encounter every single day who are lost in sin?  We talked about that in our Ladies' Bible class a few weeks ago, and I need to do better.

For the week that my rings were being repaired by the jeweler, my fingers felt naked, as I missed the familiarity of seeing those representations of love and commitment on my hands.  But I am thankful for the reminder that it isn't about the emblems, but about the actual people.  And I am thankful for the realization that I need to be more concerned about finding lost souls, than I was about finding a lost sapphire.  Luke 19:10 tells us that "the Son of Man came to seek and save that which was lost."  As a child of the King, may I be more zealous to help Him in that endeavor.