Sometime last week during LebCamp, my journal went missing.  I  haven’t been able to find it.  I’ve looked everywhere in my office, around the church, in the church van, at home, in my car.  No journal to be found.

I’ve been hoping that it would be like one of those lost and found stories in Luke’s gospel.  Like the lost coin, I’d find my journal and rejoice!  Or like the lost sheep, I’d find my journal and bring it back to the journal fold.  Or like the lost son, I’d find my journal and throw a party.  But, alas, no journal.

And to be honest, I’ve been a little lost this week without that journal.  I do have a nice, clean, fresh, never-been-written-in leather journal, but its not the same.  That journal with its worn cover and pages falling out has been through some incredible journeys with me over the last year or so.  There were thoughts about my recent doctor visits and tests that were run on my heart.  There were thoughts about life, dad, and films.  There were outlines and scribbles about new writing projects.  And, it’s all gone.

But, I’m hopeful that it’ll turn it up and those lost thoughts will be found.  And you never know, maybe I’ll throw a party.