Simply Fellowship — Episode 3: The Woman Who Lost Her Coin

WELCOME

Welcome to Above All Love. This is Simply Fellowship — the Good News, quietly told.

This is a gentle space. No pressure, no performance. You don't have to have it together to be here. You don't have to be eloquent, or certain, or spiritually sorted. You're welcome exactly as you are, wherever you are reading this.

If you need to move, or step away and come back later — that's completely fine. There's no right way to be here. Just be here.

HYMN

We begin with a hymn verse. Read it slowly. You might want to sit with each line before moving on.

Depth of mercy! Can there be

Mercy still reserved for me?

Can my God his wrath forbear?

Me, the chief of sinners, spare?

— Charles Wesley

PRAYER

Loving God,

Thank you that you are the one who searches.

Thank you that when we are lost — even when we don't know we are lost — you have not stopped looking.

Help us today to hear the sound of that search reaching us where we are.

And may we know that when we are found, all of heaven rejoices.

Amen.

SCRIPTURE

Our reading today is from Luke chapter fifteen, verses eight to ten, from the Easy English Bible.

Or think about a woman who has ten silver coins. She loses one of those coins. She takes a light and she looks carefully all through her house. She looks until she finds it. When she finds it, she calls together her friends and her neighbours. She says to them, "Be happy with me! I have found the coin that I had lost." I tell you, in the same way God's angels are happy when one sinner turns back to God.

DEVOTION

She has ten coins. She loses one.

Nine are still there, safe and accounted for. Most people, most of the time, would count the nine and be grateful for what remains. They might chalk up the missing one to bad luck, to carelessness, to simply the way things go.

But this woman lights a lamp. She gets down on her hands and knees. She sweeps every corner. She does not stop until she has found what was lost.

And when she finds it — this one small coin — she does not put it quietly back with the others. She calls her friends. She calls her neighbours. She says: Come and be happy with me.

Jesus tells this story to explain what God is like.

Not a God who sits and waits for the lost to find their own way back. Not a God who loves the nine and shrugs at the one. A God who lights a lamp. Who sweeps. Who searches every corner of every dark place until the lost thing is found.

The coin didn't do anything. It wasn't searching. It had no idea it was being looked for. It was just — lost. Somewhere on the floor in the dust. And it was enough that she knew it was lost. It was enough that she cared. That was all that was needed for the search to begin.

There are days when we feel like that coin. Not rebellious. Not running away. Just — somewhere we didn't mean to end up. Lost in a way we can't quite explain. Not sure how we got here or how to get back.

The good news, in this small and beautiful story, is that God is not waiting for you to find your own way home. God has lit the lamp. God is sweeping. God is searching. And when you are found — even if you didn't know you were being looked for — all of heaven celebrates.

That is the kind of love this is.

WONDERING QUESTIONS

These aren't questions that need answers. They're just things to hold and sit with. You might want to pause here, step away from the screen for a few minutes, and let them settle.

I wonder what it felt like to be that coin — lost, in the dark, not knowing anyone was looking?

I wonder what made the woman search so carefully for just one coin when she had nine others?

I wonder what the lamp represents to you?

I wonder if you have ever felt lost in a way that was hard to explain?

I wonder what it means that the coin didn't have to do anything — it just had to be found?

I wonder how it feels to know that heaven celebrates when one person is found?

I wonder if there is somewhere in your life right now where you can sense a light searching the corners?

A Query — in the spirit of the Quaker tradition:

Is there any part of me that believes I am too lost, too small, or too ordinary to be worth searching for?

A MOMENT OF QUIET

Before you read on, you might like to pause here. Close your eyes, or look out of a window. There's no rush. Just rest for a moment.

AN INVITATION

Before you go — a quiet word.

If you have never followed Jesus, or if you've drifted and aren't quite sure how far — you don't need to have it worked out before you come back. The woman in the story didn't wait for the coin to roll itself into the light. She came looking.

If you want to respond to that love today, you might simply say, in your own words or in the quiet of your heart:

I think I'm lost. But I'm ready to be found.

And if you already walk with Jesus — if you have followed him for years, or are finding your way again after a long absence — may this be a moment of renewal. A reminder that the God who searched for you once has not stopped. The lamp is still lit. You are still known.

GOING OUT

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.

May you know today that you are being searched for —

not with frustration,

but with a lamp and a patient heart that will not give up.

May you know that your being found matters —

not just to you,

but to all of heaven.

May you go from this moment knowing you are not forgotten —

not in any corner, not in any dark,

not ever.

Above all, love.

Amen.

Thank you for being here. Above all, love.