The hat in the photo belongs to my son Luke Parker, known in Marine Corps as Major Luke Parker. I bought it for him when he was eleven and we lived in the Great Basin Desert of northern Nevada—39 years ago. Some of my favorite photos are of him playing in the snow wearing that hat.

Since moving to Scotland fourteen years ago I have worn the blue wooly hat nearly every day—winter and summer, because compared to Texas—Scotland has no summer.

When I say I have worn the hat nearly every day, I should add…every day that it hasn’t been lost. I’ve lost count of the number of times the hat has been missing—sometimes for as long as a month at a time. God always brings it back.

Still, even though I’m wearing the hat now, it is a lost hat. Lost because the hat belongs to my son. He left it behind when he moved from our Texas address to his eternal address in heaven. The hat is lost to him. He is lost to the hat—and that’s the point of this blog.

No matter our age, we are all travelers. This earth is not our home. We are just passing through. No matter how many homes we own and how opulent they are; no matter how splendid the furnishings—some day they will be lost to us. They will join the ranks of lost along with Luke’s insignificant wooly hat.

“For we know that if this earthly house, this tent, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” 2 Corinthians 5:1.

When God is in our lives nothing is ever lost.

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