Have you ever been lost, I mean really lost?
One of my earliest memories, maybe when I was 3 or 4, I went on a shopping trip to downtown Lexington, Ky. (back when the major stores were downtown and not in a mall) with my Mom and a couple of her friends.
As I remember it, I was walking in out of the stands that all the women’s clothes would hang on and would just sort of stand or sit behind the clothes – dreaming of a great adventure.
Behind one of the racks, I was hiding on the backside of a waterfall. Hiding from pirates who were also trying to find the hidden treasure. Only I knew where it was.
Behind another rack I was in a cave surrounded by stalactites and stalagmites, and other rock formations while looking for dinosaur bones and fossils.
And behind yet another, I was in an abandoned mine shaft, a good guy lone ranger cowboy hiding from the bad guys as I thought through a plan on how to catch those bad guys and rescue my trusty sidekick.
As I exited my mineshaft clothes rack to move on to the next department and the next great adventure, I began following my Mom toward the front of the store. As I reached for her hand while the crowd picked up around us, I heard a kind voice say.
“Oh, I’m not your mommy little boy.”
And I looked up and sure enough she wasn’t. She had on similar clothes and had dark hair, but she was NOT my mommy.
I found myself in panic mode. Not knowing where I was. Not knowing where my Mom was. I had been walking and wandering, not even realizing that I was lost. Until I looked up and there I was… lost.
So, like most 3 or 4 year old little ones would do, I began to cry, and wander some more, and call out for “Mommy” until I found myself outside the store looking for my Mom. Wondering where she was. Wondering which busy street I should cross to find the next store she would have gone in.
As I reached the street corner and waited to cross while people rushed around me and by me. I remember looking back again and again to make sure I was going the right way. Frozen in fear and indecision.
Then I heard her. I heard my Mom calling my name, frantically looking for me until she found me. I remember the big hug and the “Don’t ever do that again,” coming from her relieved voice. And the panic and stress I had been under was soon replaced with peace and calm… and love.
I had followed the wrong person. Followed the wrong pant leg. Mommy had gone right. I had gone left, and suddenly I was alone and afraid.
I was lost until I was found.
That’s kind of how I see it with Jesus.
We are lost without Him. Often following the wrong person or people. Making uninformed decisions, choices and guesses. Or even hiding in our fantasies or made up adventures.
Yet, He loves us anyway and relentlessly pursues us until we are found by Him. We are like sheep who have turned off the path, going our own way, doing our own thing. Wandering around lost. Not realizing that we are lost until we look up and find that we are. Then the good shepherd, leaving the 99, pursues us and finds us. And rescues us from our lostness… from the thorns… from the wolves… from the darkness… from the wrong pant leg.
There are a lot of people in this world who follow the wrong pant leg… by choice or by lack of knowledge… or somewhere in between
Jesus is tenderly calling … calling your name. Like a lost child on a crowded downtown street, turn and run to Him. He will welcome you with open, loving arms and suddenly, whether you knew it or not, you will no longer be lost, but found.
