Donald Jossart displays the wallet he lost while plowing. Donald lost his wallet in his fields after it slipped out of his back pocket and into plow paths. Despite searching with friends and family, it was completely lost to the soil. Years passed, and while the cash inside the wallet had turned to dust and the gift cards had expired, his library and credit cards survived the five years underground. (Courtesy Photo)
Special to United Methodist Insight | July 21, 2026
Donald Jossart told me one of the most remarkable lost-and-found stories I have ever heard.
Jossart lives on a farm near Sugar Bush and Luxembourg in Brown County, Wisconsin. He called to recommend a book after reading one of my columns and ended up telling me this amazing personal story:
“I love to plow. Turning the soil over buries the dead weeds, grass, and harvest stubble, revealing the rich brown soil below and aerating it.
“In September of 2013, I was plowing a field with my 100 HP International Tractor, pulling a bottom plow. The temperature was pleasant and the day was sunny. After making rounds for a couple of hours, I came home for lunch. I needed my wallet, but when I reached into the back pocket of my jeans, it was not there.
“Unfortunately, there is a gap between my tractor seat and the backrest. With a sinking feeling, I realized my wallet had worked its way out of my pocket – and down into the plow paths. It had been covered up.
“I have plowed my fields for many years, and I had a “sense” of where my wallet may have dropped, so I went back to the field and cultivated the acres I had plowed that morning to turn up my wallet. No luck. Friends and family helped me search. We prayed to find it.
“Among other things, the wallet contained my driver’s license, library card, gift cards, and $200 in cash. Everything was lost. Finally, and regretfully, I went through the tedious and challenging process of reporting the loss and replacing what I could. I truly had faith that, in time, God would reveal my wallet again.
“Several years of farming, planting, and working the field passed by with no sign of my wallet, even though I looked and hoped every day. Then, in May of 2018, as I was using my land roller, FLIP! Something came out of the ground. Immediately, I wondered if it was a stone or my wallet. I quickly stopped the tractor, jumped off, crossed to the spot, and there was my wallet, found after five years in the ground. I was joyous. God answers prayers!
“Gingerly, I opened it. The $200 in cash had been reduced to dust, and the gift cards had expired. My credit cards and library card were intact but, as it turns out, my library card needed updating. When I went to the library to replace my card, the two helpful ladies I told my story to encouraged me to write it down."
Kayaking as a Youth
Bud Links of Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin wrote, “Dear John, your story about muskrats (Creator’s beauty graces pond, 7-2-26) brought back memories of skating and kayaking on local rivers. While a boy and a young man, I often skated on the Rock and Crawfish Rivers alone and with my dad. Dad grew up on the Rock, and we lived a block from the Crawfish, in Milford, Wisconsin.
“On the Rock, Dad showed me muskrat homes, constructed as you described. We stood upon them in their frozen winter condition. He assured me that the "rats," as he called them, could hear us skating, talking, and standing upon their residences. Dad said, if they needed to vacate their homes, they had an above-ground entrance/exit, as well as another underwater "door" which would allow them to exit without being seen.
“Years later, while kayaking on the Bark River, I watched a muskrat make trip after trip from one bank to the other, swimming with weeds and rushes; building materials for a muskrat home.”
Walter Gust, of Wauwatosa, Wisconsin, wrote in response to my July 9 “Open Doors Can Save Us” column: “One time an old couple awoke at night and the barn light kept flashing on and off. Terrified, the man crept into the barn and saw that the mare had left her stall and was rubbing her rear end against the light switch.”
A Mystical Experience
Linda Myszka of Athens, Wisconsin, wrote about a mystical experience: “As I was reading my diary, I recalled back in 1994 when I was 37 years old, stopping by my grandma’s, before going to work in the mornings, to help her get dressed. Grandma complained of bright lights in her bedroom window that would wake her up at night. She was afraid someone was trying to break into the house, so Dad put a new lock on the door.
“Then one morning, before going to work, I walked into her house and saw a young lady standing on the upstairs steps. She was dressed in a lot of clothes and had something flat on top of her head. I looked at Grandma and said, ‘I think I’m seeing things.’
“Grandma then asked me if I saw an old lady standing on the stairs with what looked like a high hat on top of her head? Shocked, I said, ‘Yes, I did see her.’”
A Story from Wisconsin
Barbara Meyer of Slinger, Wisconsin wrote: “I saw the Holy Spirit come down to my husband, Ron, when he was passing away at the hospital. He had cancer. It was 30 years ago, but I remember how the Holy Spirit was a bright, lingering white light over Ron’s head. It was just a few moments. I knew he was going home to the Lord, and it gave me a sense of peace and calm.”’
Joe and Jerry Ratayzah of Kewaunee, Wisconsin, are retired dairy farmers, 70 and 67 years old. They wrote that they are one-half Polish and one-half German, and that their family “…has only been on the farm for 75 years.”
Both Joe and Jerry miss “…being strong enough to take care of the dairy cows…” they used to have on the farm. But they still “have a small garden and enjoy the few vegetables we raise.”
After reading my February 26th column, “Butterfly Wings Bring Message,” Joe Ratayzay wrote: “Perhaps I had a visitation experience when Sylvan, age 12, a special needs person, died on June 7, 2025. He liked to come to the farm here with his parents and family and friends.
“Sylvan came with friends when the heifers came to summer pasture, two weeks before he died.
“On the day Sylvan died, the cattle did not want to come up to the barnyard for the night, but did eventually. I found out two hours later that the time Sylvan drowned was the time the heifers didn’t want to come home. Possibly Sylvan’s presence was here before he left for eternity. It is unknown what actually happened.”
The Rev. John Sumwalt (Courtesy Photo)
The Rev. John Sumwalt is a retired pastor and old farm kid. He is the author of “Shining Moments: Visions of the Holy in Ordinary Lives.” Email