FIRST GLIMPSE: missing You just don't know how important some things are until they are missing...     Eric Thomsen is the managing editor of ONE Magazine. Send comments and observations about ONE to editor@nafwb.org.

“Honey, wake up!”

“What?” My wife’s sleepy voice sounds irritable in the darkness.

“It’s gone.”

“What’s gone?”

“My passport.”

“Your passport! You’re kidding, right?” Sleepiness and irritability have been replaced by panic.

I shine my flashlight into her squinting eyes. “Do you think I would joke about that?”

A frantic search ensues. Suitcases are emptied. Backpacks are dumped on the bed. Still, no passport.
The full impact of the situation begins to sink in. It is 1:00 a.m. I am 6,000 miles from home in another country, and I am kneeling on a cold, tile floor beside my suitcase with no passport. At least I am in the right position. “Please, God, help me find it.”

As I sort through my socks, I ask myself, “How does a reasonably intelligent, professional adult lose the one document he absolutely cannot lose?”

I don’t ask my wife. I’m afraid of her answer.

The phone calls begin. I retrace my steps, waking former hosts from their sleep to join the search. I am living a nightmare.

You just don’t realize how important some things are until they are missing.

It’s a pastor’s nightmare.

He arrives at church one Sunday morning to find the lights off, no tempting aroma of fresh coffee, no friendly greeters at the door to hand him church bulletin that were not printed anyway. Before long, a confused crowd begins to wander hallways that lack their weekly cleaning looking for missing teachers.

Irritated mothers carry screaming infants because no patient workers staff the nursery. Small knots of angry people begin to form, talking in strident voices as elementary-aged children dash between them, playing tag.

The confusion continues into the worship service as the pastor struggles to lead unfamiliar songs in a loud voice because no one turned on the sound system. Usually, the piano, organ, and guitars cover his tuneless voice when he fills in for the worship leader. Today he sings alone. When no ushers appear, he asks for volunteers. A stone-faced group crosses their arms and stares back at him. Humiliated, the man of God skips the offering and opens his Bible…

You just don’t realize how important some people are until they are missing.

By the way, I found my passport. It was under the bed.