They say gold is refined in fire, and sometimes, the most profound transformations in God’s kingdom begin with the agony of being lost. Ironically, the story of a lost soul is not merely one of spiritual tragedy—it is often the soil in which divine intimacy, purpose, and power germinate. In the kingdom of Christ, a lost soul isn’t always a wasted life; it is sometimes a raw material for glory. The mess, in God’s hands, becomes a message. And heaven is never intimidated by a broken beginning.
The parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15) remains one of the clearest metaphors for this redemptive paradox. The son who wandered, wasted, and wallowed in shame later returned—not to condemnation, but to celebration. “For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found” (Luke 15:24). The celebration wasn’t just for recovery—it was heaven’s endorsement of restoration. Sometimes, it is in the pit that purpose is crystallized. It was in Pharaoh’s prison that Joseph’s interpretation gift matured. It was in the wilderness that Moses’ calling caught fire. And it was in the belly of the fish that Jonah’s rebellion became submission.
To be lost, in the sacred economy of Christ, is often the birthplace of humility and hunger. A soul that has tasted the bitterness of wandering is often more desperate for the sweetness of divine alignment. Evangelist Reinhard Bonnke once said, “God doesn’t call the qualified; He qualifies the called—even if they were once lost.” The scars of yesterday, once surrendered, become symbols of authority tomorrow. The kingdom of God thrives on this principle: the rejected become rulers, the outcasts become carriers of oil, and the fallen become fountains of revival.
Moreover, a soul once lost knows the terrain of darkness and becomes a torchbearer for others trapped there. Who better to rescue the suicidal than one who once stood at that edge? Who better to preach grace than one who once drowned in guilt? Apostle Ayo Babalola once thundered, “I was a man men despised, until the fire of God arrested me.” In Christ’s kingdom, no pain is wasted; no detour is dismissed. The lost soul carries empathy that the untouched may never understand. That, in itself, becomes a redemptive advantage.
Christian history is replete with such reversals. Saul, a murderer of saints, became Paul, the architect of gentile salvation. Mary Magdalene, once known for demons, became the first witness of resurrection. Even Peter, who denied Christ thrice, rose as the rock upon which the Church would stand. These stories are not exceptions—they are templates. In God’s kingdom, being lost is never final unless one refuses to return. Brother Gbile Akanni once taught, “You can start wrong but still finish well, if only you return to the Potter.”
Yet, the glorious metamorphosis from lostness to lordship begins with a cry of surrender. Christ does not impose salvation; He invites it—gently but urgently. “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). To the one who feels unworthy, broken, or irredeemable, heaven stretches forth pierced hands of mercy. As Bishop David Oyedepo declared, “No one meets Jesus sincerely and remains the same.” Salvation is not merely a church ritual—it is the rebirth of destiny. Today, if you hear His voice, harden not your heart. The benefit of being lost is that you are eligible to be found, to be healed, and to be used mightily. Let today be that divine turn—because a crown waits beyond the cry.
– Inah Boniface Ocholi writes from Ayah – Igalamela/Odolu LGA, Kogi state.
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