God made me who I am. I am a radical thinker. I am a dreamer. I am a visionary. I am a mother. I am a wife. I am compassionate. I am fiercely loyal. I am a fighter. I am a voice for the voiceless. I am stubborn. I am mean. I am proud. I am angry. I am lost. I am found; lost again and found again. Found and lost. Lost and found.... a vicious cycle.
I’m on a vicious cycle.
I’m in a vicious cycle.
Lost in the world: Found at home....
Home is where the heart is, after all. Home is where the soul belongs. Home is where it all starts and where it all ends. Lost can be many places, it’s really hard when lost is at home. Found can be many places but it’s great when it’s at home. Found is where I need to be. I need to be found. I cannot be lost anymore. God, find me - please. Find me and never lose me again. I am too tired to be lost. I am too lonely to be lost. I am too afraid to be lost. I am too cool to be lost. I am too smart to be lost. I am too....What? Too far into a journey? Too far down the beaten path? Too far gone?
Journeys have a beginning and an end. This journey has been a great adventure from beginning to end. God has guided me - even when I was lost and I didn’t know he was there for me, like now. He always led the way and sometimes I followed and sometimes I didn’t. I caught up later. He let me venture off, but he always came after me. He always called me back. Is he calling me back now? Is he telling me to follow him? Am I venturing off or am I following? Such a perplexing question - am I lost or found?
All I ask, God is that you make this path, this journey, this next step clear to me. I need to know that I am following and not lost in some chasm that is deep and dark and leads to destruction. How do I know, God? How do I trust that my path is right with you? That is all that matters. Don’t lose me again, God. I can’t bear to be lost anymore. Please find me. Find me and put me where I belong. Help me to find “it”. I’ve been chasing “it” my entire life. I lost “it” when I was a kid. I don’t know if I lost “it” or if “it” was taken from me, but either way “it” left me and I’ve been looking for “it” ever since. So, if you know where “it” is and if you know what “it” is, please help me find “it”. Please help me to know “it” again and to never lose “it”.
What is it? Is it peace? Yes. It is peace. It’s been out of my soul and out of my heart on some wild adventure for over 40 years. It stops in occasionally, but it never stays for long. It is like the wind, blowing on a wayward breeze. It is a whisper in the darkness that calls my name as the shadow passes. It is a tease: Come here and you’ll find me. Okay, I say. And I go. I go to West Virginia. Hah! It vanishes. Come here and you’ll find me...the shadow beckons. Okay, I say. And I go to NJ. Hah! It vanishes again. Come here and you’ll find me, the voice says in the wind. Okay, I say. And I go. I go to Florida. Hah! It hides. It plays hide a seek with me over and over again. It hides from me at work and at home. It hides in hospital rooms. It plays lost and found with me for years and years. And I let it hide. I let it stay hidden. I seek, but I don’t find. It knows where to hide.
Where do I find it? I know, of course. It is inside of me. It is right there hiding but, in order to find it, I have to look inside. I don’t want to look inside. There are dark things in there. There are things that I’d have to look behind to find it. I’d have to move abuse out of the way. Then, of course, there’s shame in the great big over-sized box. I don’t know that I can move shame. There’s sadness in the corner - it’s stuck there. So many boxes - how could I ever find it? The darkness is great and I don’t have a flashlight. Besides, the negative box is enormous! Next to the negative box is the tiny and very fragile hurting box. The hurting box just doesn’t want to be moved. I bet it is hiding behind that box. Of all the boxes, the hurting box, although small and fragile, is the heaviest. I don’t think I can ever move that box.
I’d have to open the hurting box and take some of the things out of it in order to move it. I’d have to take sorrow out. Anger is in there too. So is doubt. The hurting box has lots of hurtful words in it. It holds lots of regret. The hurting box holds six babies. I can’t take them out. As much as I want to take them out and hold them and mother them and love them, I can’t. They’ve been tucked away in the hurting box for many years. They are what makes that box so fragile. If I were it, I’d hide behind that box.
So, here I am. Chasing it and knowing that it lies right there. It is within my reach if I decide to find it. I cannot find it without moving the boxes. I cannot move the boxes without help. I cannot find help without asking. So, I’m asking. I’m begging. I’m pleading...God help me. God help me to move the boxes because I cannot move them myself. Better yet, God, pick up the boxes and move them for me. Show me where “it” is and help me to keep “it”.
“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”
“Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”