The joy of being lost
I have been thinking about the lack of being lost throughout most of my life. Since childhood, I have been quite in control of my life. Rarely do I find myself lost in this world. In 8th grade I knew I wanted to be a pastor or a teacher, nothing else. I went to college to be a teacher, and shortly thereafter went to seminary to be a pastor. I have always lived in places where cars ruled and control of direction was in my hands. In controlled environments, direction is not so difficult to maneuver (especially with mapquest). Control and directed explains most of my life. Some would argue that this is good.
However, though there is good in direction, the last week has opened my eyes to something else – being lost. At least once a day, I would argue that I am short on direction. Whether boarding the right numbered bus in the wrong direction, or being completely clueless of where I am in this beautiful city, I experience directionless daily. As some of you have read in earlier posts, I was lost for hours one day.
The power and joy of being lost is not the complete recklessness that I feel, or the complete abandonment. This is miserable. The joy is in the dual dependency. First, I have a brain that will get me somewhere to find help. Two, being out of control calls for my childlike faithfulness in our wonderful God. And finally, the joy is most exciting when you, in a state of exhaustion and fear, find resemblance of the familiar. The signs of home are joyous.
Abraham, was a wandering Aramean – he is our ancestor. In this, he wandered in utter dependence that God would guide him to somewhere good. He was lost in a vastness of which familiarity was nowhere to be found. An he survived.
In our world, control and direction are virtues. Maybe this is contrary to the virtues of trust, faithfulness, and patience. I wonder if our call as disciples is to foreign and strange situations knowing that goodness will arise amidst the chaos. For me, to be lost has found in itself joy.
However, though there is good in direction, the last week has opened my eyes to something else – being lost. At least once a day, I would argue that I am short on direction. Whether boarding the right numbered bus in the wrong direction, or being completely clueless of where I am in this beautiful city, I experience directionless daily. As some of you have read in earlier posts, I was lost for hours one day.
The power and joy of being lost is not the complete recklessness that I feel, or the complete abandonment. This is miserable. The joy is in the dual dependency. First, I have a brain that will get me somewhere to find help. Two, being out of control calls for my childlike faithfulness in our wonderful God. And finally, the joy is most exciting when you, in a state of exhaustion and fear, find resemblance of the familiar. The signs of home are joyous.
Abraham, was a wandering Aramean – he is our ancestor. In this, he wandered in utter dependence that God would guide him to somewhere good. He was lost in a vastness of which familiarity was nowhere to be found. An he survived.
In our world, control and direction are virtues. Maybe this is contrary to the virtues of trust, faithfulness, and patience. I wonder if our call as disciples is to foreign and strange situations knowing that goodness will arise amidst the chaos. For me, to be lost has found in itself joy.
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