In his first home game after the death of his father, National Football League running back Aaron Jones wore something special: a football-shaped pendant necklace that contained some of his dad’s ashes. At some point during the game, the necklace fell off and was lost in the vastness of the turf. One of the team’s athletic trainers searched the field for hours—into the early morning—until he found Aaron’s treasured pendant.

The irreplaceable value of the pendant is what prompted the trainer to persist in the search on Aaron’s behalf. His persistence reminds us of the earnest care God shows for people who are “lost” to Him. Jesus describes God’s pursuit of His children through two parables: one about a lost sheep, another about a lost coin. In both stories, the person who has lost something of great worth to them will “go after the lost sheep until he finds it” or will “light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it” (Luke 15:4, 8).

We’ve each been that lost coin or sheep. God seeks us persistently, sometimes using a person as His agent. Though we’re one of many people, we’re irreplaceable in His eyes; He’s unwilling to abandon the search. When we’re willing to be found by Him and accept His gift of forgiveness from our sin, there’s great “rejoicing in heaven” (v. 7). On this Father’s Day, may we realize how important each of us is to our heavenly Father.

Sweetly fragrant cherry tree blossoms flood Japan with exquisite pale and vibrant pinks every spring, delighting the senses of residents and tourists alike. The short-lived nature of the blossoms cultivates a keen awareness in the Japanese to savor the beauty and scent while they linger: the very brevity of the experience heightens the poignancy of it. They call this deliberate enjoyment of something that will change quickly “mono-no-aware.”

As humans, it’s understandable that we’d want to seek and prolong feelings of joy. Yet the reality that life is riddled with hardship means we must cultivate the ability to view both pain and pleasure through a lens of faith in a loving God. We needn’t be overly pessimistic, nor should we fashion ourselves an unrealistically sunny outlook on life.

The book of Ecclesiastes offers a helpful model for us. Though this book is sometimes thought to be a catalog of negative statements, the same King Solomon who wrote that “everything is meaningless” (1:2) also encouraged his readers to find joy in the simple things in life saying, “There is nothing better for a person under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad” (8:15).

Joy comes when we ask God to help us “know wisdom” and learn to observe “all that [He] has done” (vv. 16–17) in both beautiful seasons and in difficult ones, knowing that neither is permanent on this side of heaven.

I’ve often affectionately joked with my mother-in-law about her ability to talk to her dogs. She responds to their barks with loving understanding. Perhaps now she and dog owners everywhere will also listen for their canine pals to laugh. Scientists have discovered that many animals, including dogs, cows, foxes, seals, and parakeets all have “vocal play signals”—otherwise known as laughter. Identifying these accompanying sounds helps distinguish an animal’s play behaviors from what might otherwise look like fighting to a human observer.

That animals express laughter and joy gives us a delightful glimmer of what it might look like for other parts of creation to praise God in their own way. As King David looked over his surroundings, it seemed to him “the hills [were] clothed with gladness” and the meadows and valleys were “[shouting] for joy” (Psalm 65:12-13). David recognized that God had cared for and enriched the land, providing both beauty and sustenance.

Even though our physical surroundings don’t “sing” in a literal way, they bear witness to God’s active work in His creation and, in turn, invite us to give praise to Him with our voices. May we—as part of the “whole earth”—be “filled with awe at [His] wonders” and respond to Him with “songs of joy” (v. 8). We can trust that He’ll hear and understand them.

We’d known Kha for more than a year. He was part of our small group from church who met weekly to discuss what we’d been learning about God. One evening during our regular meeting, he made a reference to having competed at the Olympics. The mention was so casual that it almost escaped my notice. Almost. Lo and behold, I learned I knew an Olympian who had competed in the bronze medal match! I couldn’t fathom that he’d not mentioned it before, but, for Kha, while his athletic achievement was a special part of his story, more important things were central to his identity: his family, his community, and his faith.

wThe story in Luke 10:1–23 describes what should be central to our identity. When the seventy-two people Jesus sent out to tell others about the kingdom of God returned from their journeys, they reported to Him that “even the demons submit to us in your name” (v. 17). While Jesus acknowledged that He’d equipped them with tremendous power and protection, He said they were focused on the wrong thing. He insisted that their cause for rejoicing should be because their “names are written in heaven” (v. 20).

Whatever achievements or abilities God has granted us, our greatest cause for rejoicing is that if we’ve entrusted ourselves to Jesus our names are written in heaven and we enjoy His daily presence in our lives.

Phillip’s father suffered from severe mental illness and had left home to live on the streets. After Cyndi and her young son Phillip spent a day searching for him, Phillip was rightly concerned for his well-being. He asked his mother whether his father and other people without homes were warm. In response, they launched an effort to collect and distribute blankets and cold-weather gear to homeless people in the area. For more than a decade, Cyndi has considered it her life’s work, crediting her son and her deep faith in God for awakening her to the hardship of being without a warm place to sleep.

The Bible has long taught us to respond to the needs of others. In the book of Exodus, Moses records a set of principles to guide our interaction with those who lack plentiful resources. When we’re moved to supply the needs of another, we’re to “not treat it like a business deal” and should make no gain or profit from it (Exodus 22:25). If a person’s cloak was taken as collateral, it was to be returned by sunset “because that cloak is the only covering your neighbor has. What else can they sleep in?” (v. 27).

Let’s ask God to open our eyes and hearts to see how we can ease the pain of those who are suffering. Whether we seek to meet the needs of many—as Cyndi and Phillip have—or those of a single person, we honor Him by treating them with dignity and care.