Lost & Found
I’m certain I know where it’s hiding 🤦♀️ — a story about my hubris
I’ve always been a sentimental person. Family trinkets and heirlooms hold a special place for me. I have collections of costume jewelry, art supplies, and photos all about my house.
I inherited many of these items early in life, and have held on to them through my various moves over the years. One such item was a Polaroid SX-70 camera. It had a beautiful carmel colored leather outer, and used Polaroid’s instant film. I got it from my grandfather after he passed many years ago.
Somewhere along the way, the camera was lost. For a time I was certain it was in storage at my mom’s house, out of state. So years ago, when on a trip to visit her, we hunted through several boxes of my stored items she has at her home. It was nowhere to be seen. Every stone was turned over. Nada.
Coming home from that search I felt defeated. Somehow I had lost something very special to me — a camera from my grandfather. I decided to try and find a replacement camera. I even went so far as to buy one online from someone who refurbished them. That camera didn’t work right; and more importantly, it didn’t feel the same. I returned it and tried to accept the loss.
During my summer break this year, I went in search of another vintage item (my senior year backpack that’s loaded with pins and patches).
I was *certain* it was in the box under my bed. I was wrong.
I was *certain* it was in my tall closet cupboard. I was wrong.
I reached for the final box it could have been in at my house. I pulled it down off the high shelf, standing on a step stool I was nearly toppled over by its weight. I managed to get it down and set it on my bed; I cracked the lid and instantly recognized the matching brown leather case. I was overjoyed and in shock.
Photo of a brown leather Polaroid SX-70 Camera in open position
“How could it have been here all along?!” I was so delighted and confused as I gently pulled it out of the box, and opened the case. There it was: the camera I’d been searching for — and gave up on — for nearly a decade. It had been in my bedroom THE ENTIRE TIME.
It was right under my nose. I thought I had searched my own house, but I kissed a spot. I perhaps gave up too soon in earlier searches.
So I purchased a pack of SX-70 film (no easy task, as it turns out), as this is the only way to test a SX-70 camera (batteries are in the film pack). It took a few weeks to locate and receive the film; it arrived this week.
I was a bit nervous that all this lead up would turn into false hope if the camera no longer worked. I actually waited a day or two to try it out of fear of being disappointed. Finally I got the courage to open the film pack. I clumsily placed it in the camera, and prayed as I pushed the shutter button. The camera responded beautifully.
I’ve since wondered, “Why now?” Why after all this time did I get to find it. I suspect it may have something to do with a new body of work I’m beginning. I feel God’s wink to me in this idea. The back pack may be hiding now (I’m *certain* it’s at my mom’s house). But the camera has reappeared at the exact right time.
It brought to mind the parable Jesus tells about the woman and her lost coin. She scours her house looking for the precious item in Luke 15. Jesus tells his audience that as soon as she finds it she calls her friends to celebrate with her. Jesus concludes this story — the second of three on the theme of losing and finding — that this is how heaven parties when people turn to God.
While my experience is adjacent to the deeper meaning of turning to God — this whole experience reminded me to celebrate this find. I called my mom. I showed my husband. I told my photo critique group and a colleague. And I get to remember that Jesus celebrates with me, too. And maybe the timing of finding it was divine after all.