Good things happen to church people.

I lost my camera, my uber nice camera. You know, the one I barely know how to use.

Had you heard?

My husband told anyone and everyone who would listen that I left it on my dashboard, left my car unlocked, and that my camera was stolen.

Which is very possible, but I knew this was not the case.

You see, things like this happen to me all of the time.

In college, I lost a Tiffany bracelet that Adam had given me and one morning Rachel went to get a tampon and pulled my bracelet out of the tampon box.

Many, many moons ago, I lost my Tiffany mesh ring (the one I bought to replace my first one). This winter, when Adam took apart our dryer, he found it in there.

Last fall I misplaced my driver's license and after tearing my car apart looking for it, I went to get a new one. Only to have my old one turn up under my driver's seat the next day.

My life is like one big game of hide and seek. One big expensive game of hide and seek.

This is why I was not going to accept the fact that my camera was stolen off the dash of my car when I left it unlocked. I knew that if I waited long enough, it would appear.

The last time thought I had the camera was at the pumpkin patch, in October.

And last night, when I was moving things around in the basement, I found it!

In a bag of my Grandma Karen's old Christmas stuff...there it was!

It was nothing short of a miracle.

The only way to explain it is that we went to church that morning for the first time in a long time. We did not have nursery duty.

We went to hear the message, and God was pleased. And my camera reappeared.

Hallelujah.