“Mom, can I have my glasses?” asked our thirteen-year-old daughter, who had given them to my wife before splashing around in Lake Michigan.
My wife carried the glasses as she strolled the shore and visited me at our chairs, from where I had been watching and reading.
Later, our daughter was ready for her glasses.
Oh, no! Where were they? My wife knew where they should be and another spot where she might have placed them. But they were nowhere to be found.
We prayed as we diligently searched the shallow wave-filled waters, the rusting piers and the sandy area up to our chairs. Almost an hour passed. No glasses. We surrendered our search to God.
As we sat, enjoying family time and worshipping God on an overcast but pleasant Fourth of July afternoon, a couple of female, twenty-something missionaries of another faith walked up and invited us into a friendly conversation. God, please fill me with Your love and wisdom and give me a winsome manner. In Jesus’ name, amen. After 30 minutes of getting to know a bit about each other, praising God and sharing just some of our beliefs, we prayed together.
“Thank you so much for welcoming us and spending time talking with us,” they said and parted.
Our family then prayed one last time to find the glasses. As my wife and daughter neared the shore, I called out, “I found the glasses.”
Indeed! Only a couple of feet from our chairs and next to where the young ladies had stood, in an area we had thoroughly searched, God had blessed us with a miracle. Sticking straight up, half-buried in the sand, were the glasses.
We praised God for His presence and for answering our prayers, both for finding the glasses and for our time with the young missionaries. We prayed for those young ladies, faithfully serving God according to their beliefs, and asked that He help them follow Him into all truth.
I still pray that our family will meet them again one day, on the shore of the sea of glass, and share the miracle of how God brought us home to Him. I trust that God will answer this prayer, too.
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