The Missing Oreo Piece

All of our toys are now being used by the next generation.
Even with five children, it is amazing that we still have all the pieces to our games.
We still have all the Fisher Price Little People sets intact.
We still have the Fisher Price dollhouse and all its accessories.

We still have the play kitchen with all the pretend food.
We still have the dishes, teacups, and spoons from all those years ago.
We still have the tea bag that goes into the tea kettle.
We still have all the toppings that go on the pizza.

I taught my children to take care of their things.
I taught them to clean up after they were finished playing.
I explained that if they took care of their toys, they would have them to play with for many years.
Somewhere along the way, that message stuck.

They liked playing Monopoly with friends and know that all the pieces would be there.
They liked going to the art cabinet and know that crayons and colored pencils were available.
They liked getting out the checkerboard or chess board and know that it was ready for play.
Don’t think it was always smooth sailing.

The message stuck, but things still got lost.
However, lost things did eventually get found.
They all had a sense of satisfaction and a skill they carry with them in life.
Everything has a place was something I learned as a small girl and taught to them.

At this moment, something is lost.
Maybe it’s simply misplaced.
Maybe it has been put in a new place that only a fifteen month old can determine.
There is a lost Oreo cookie.

It’s not a real Oreo cookie.
It is part of a matching game that we have had for years.
Each Oreo can be opened to the cookie side and the cream side.
On each side there is a shape that neatly fits together with its corresponding piece.

My youngest granddaughter loves this game.
At fifteen months old, she knows nothing about matching the pieces.
She only knows how to dump all the pieces on the floor and put them in the container again.
She likes to do that over and over, putting the red lid on top for finality.

When she was here last weekend, she got the Oreo game out of the toy chest.
She carried it to the center of the family room and proceeded to dump the pieces on the rug.
Some of the pieces were stubborn so she put the container over her head and shook it.
The pieces cascaded down, and she delighted in putting them in the container again.

My husband was working in his office and she wanted to be in there with him.
He came out to the family room and got a basket of little figures she enjoys and the Oreo game.
At her nap time, I went into his office to clean up the toys.
Only a few of the Oreo cookies were on the rug.

I looked over and saw that a large pile of Oreo cookie pieces were stacked on his desk.
I was being given an Oreo while I worked, he said with a smile in his voice.
I gathered the Oreo pieces and added them to the container.
Something told me to check and see if all the pieces were there.

I stood at our large table in the kitchen and matched the Oreo cream side with the cookie side.
One cookie side with a star shape did not have its match.
I told my husband and he laughed.
It’s probably on my desk, he assumed.

It was not on his desk, under his desk, or around his desk.
It is not anywhere.
My son laughed and said that his little daughter likes to put things in cabinets.
Here we are a week later and the cookie side with the star shape has no match.

Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.’ In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents. (Luke 15:8-10)

There is rejoicing when a lost thing is found.
Obviously, an Oreo cookie piece is not as important as a coin, or a pearl, or a prodigal son.
However, losing something, even a small something, gives us perspective about a big something.
There is nothing bigger to God the Father than a lost soul.

It matters.
Jesus, the Good Shepherd will leave the ninety-nine to look for the one.
The father will wait until he sees his prodigal son coming up the road and run to him.
The man will sell all he has to buy the field in which the treasure is hidden.

I hope I find the missing Oreo cream side cookie piece with the star shape.
I have to think like a fifteen month old and determine where it might be hidden.
And when I find it, I will be glad.
In some little way, I will be glad.