The Coach Who Wouldn't Leave the Parking Lot

In 2019, a high school basketball coach in Memphis named Penny Hardaway noticed that Marcus, a quiet sophomore who had been showing up faithfully to every practice, suddenly stopped coming. Most coaches would have moved on. The roster was deep. The team was winning. Ninety-nine players were accounted for.

But Penny drove to Marcus's neighborhood after practice. He found the boy sitting on a stoop, convinced he wasn't good enough, ready to disappear into the statistics of another kid who slipped through the cracks. Penny sat down beside him. He didn't lecture. He didn't guilt. He simply said, "I noticed you were gone. The team isn't the same without you."

Marcus came back the next day.

What stopped people in their tracks wasn't the championship that season. It was the image of a grown man, with a hundred things demanding his attention, sitting on a concrete step in the fading light because one kid mattered that much.

This is the heart of what Jesus describes in Luke 15. The shepherd doesn't do a headcount and shrug at an acceptable loss. He leaves the ninety-nine. He searches ravines and thickets until the one is found. And when he lifts that sheep onto his shoulders, he doesn't scold it for wandering — he throws a party.

The Almighty does not calculate acceptable losses. He comes looking for you.