Sometimes I get lost

Literally.  Lost.  The last time this happened was at 11:00 pm on a Friday night.  Imagine the most perfect setting for a horror film . . . aaaannnnndddd that’s where I was.  MIDDLE. OF. NOWHERE.  Remember Jason’s camp? The woods? No lights–never any lights?  So, you get my point.

Heading home from those Friday night lights with a car full of teenagers and a dear friend in tow, I never questioned my GPS.  That is until it desperately wanted us to go over a bridge that no longer exists.  British GPS lady (I’m not sure why my GPS has a British accent) was not taking no for an answer. You have all been there. Oh, the recalibrating . . . the spinning circle. . . the attitudinal voice telling me to do a u-y!  At one point, we were head on with at least 20 wild hogs.  I’m not even kidding!  Hogs. Everywhere.  I was convinced we had reached the edge of the world.  I looked at my dear, sweet, calm friend and said, “I am so happy you are here with me.”  I mean, I knew  that we would find our way home.  I had NO doubt (Welllll . . . maybe a tad bit of doubt) that we would eventually make it to the promised land.   But, my heart still beat hard in my chest until I finally saw something familiar.  And when I crawled into my bed a few hours later, I was thankful for LIFE.  And ALL. THE. THINGS!!!

And sometimes I get lost .  .  . even when I know exactly where I am.  Life will be plugging along as usual. I will be doing my thing which generally includes washing clothes, cooking, working, kids, washing clothes, sleeping, kids, working, washing clothes, kids. You get the general picture.   I look around and realize that I don’t recognize myself.  Maybe it’s too much Netflix?  Maybe too many sweets?  Maybe PMS?  Who the heck knows?  But, here I am.  Again.  The self-induced fog that surrounds me thins out just enough for slivers of light to pierce through, and I remember. I remember how loved I am.  I remember that I am God’s absolute treasured possession.   That He takes GREAT delight in me.  That I have been blessed beyond belief regardless of my present circumstances.  That I am a grown-ass woman who gets to choose what my life consists of.  Do I want to wallow in the mundane as if I am the only person who has piles of laundry?  Or, do I want to remember what those piles represent–a family who is living and loving and existing together?  Mainly, I remember that I am safe.  Not safe as in nothing bad could ever happen to me.  But safe, as in Psalm 16:1, “Keep me safe, my God, for in you I take refuge.” One of the definitions for the word safe says, “not likely to be lost.”  In Christ, I am not just “not likely to be lost” but I absolutely WILL NEVER be truly lost again.  I may lose my way here and there. I may look around and realize that I have gotten a bit off track.  But really, truly, and hopelessly lost? No! Nope! Never!  This all goes for you too by the way.  If you have accepted Christ, you may get off track. You may find yourself in uncharted waters.  But never will you be lost–truly lost–again.

So, what happens next? How do I get to the place where peace lives?  First, I must seek truth.  Figure out what lies I have been believing because it’s those lies that cause me to take that first step off of the path.  When I can recognize the lies, I then fight them with “the sword of the Spirit which is the word of God.”(Ephesians 6:17)  Speak truth to yourself ALL DAY LONG! Speak it.  Sing it. Pray it. Think it. And when we do that, God picks us up, brushes us off, reminds us who we are, pats our rear (sometimes more of a push), and helps us to start again.  And again.  And again.