We all know what disappearing ink is like, but I have an app on my phone that sort of behaved the same way.

When I was a kid it was fun to try to make a secret message that no one could read, except the person you wanted to get the message because they had the formula to see what was written on the paper.  

Disappearing ink is made with lemon juice and to read it you need to get the paper close to a heat source. Then what was written in invisible ink can be seen.

There are also other ways to get ink to disappear. For instance, over time, in certain light ink starts to fade. 

On the wall of my office hangs my ordination certificate, signed by the six men who interviewed me and agreed that I should be ordained. That was almost thirty years ago and the signatures on that certificate are quite faded. In fact, they will likely disappear completely in the next few years. 

The proof that I’m a Reverend will be gone. I may have to retire. 

Ink doesn’t last forever. I shouldn’t expect more of it. 

But the other day, six pages of notes suddenly disappeared on me – notes that I’d made in writing my sermon. 

I probably have a peculiar way of studying, but I stand and make notes on a white board. When the white board is full, I use an app on my phone to scan the contents of the white board and turn them into a PDF. 

Then I erase  the whiteboard and start writing more notes. 

By the time I’ve finished making my notes, which I do over three days, they are all saved into my app as a PDF. I then refer to that PDF on my tablet as I write my sermon. 

Well, this week I opened the app to view my scanned notes, and the app opened as if it had never been used before. There was a splash screen and then some “let’s get started” slides. I thought that was strange, but I also figured that perhaps the app had updated during the night. 

But when I went to find my scanned whiteboard images, there was nothing. 

Nada. None. Nowhere to be found. They just all disappeared. … and I had no intention of making them secret notes! 

I searched the app for a way to get them back. Nothing. 

I started an online chat with a representative from the app, but couldn’t help but notice how much time was ticking by. 

I should have been well into writing my sermon, but I hadn’t started. Instead, I spent two hours trying to recover my disappearing scans. 

In the end, the person I was chatting with had to pass my problem off to more technical employees who would get back to me sometime after they investigated my problem.

I couldn’t wait for that to happen, so my notes were lost to me in writing my sermon. 

… I still haven’t heard back from the company. I’ve finished writing my sermon, so I don’t really need them, but there is still no sight of my disappearing notes!

Here’s the thing: Guilt can be disappearing on us. You might think that’s a good thing – it is and it isn’t. Guilt serves a purpose to draw us back to God in repentance – that’s good. But if we don’t act on that guilt, it begins to fade and will completely disappear, leaving us in our sin and drifting away from God – that’s not good. Don’t let guilt disappear. Act on it and draw close to God. 

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What have you let disappear that you want to get back? Leave your comments below.