Lost & Found

"All who wander are not lost." - Tolkien

I can’t remember ever being lost, geographically speaking.  It’s not that I have a great sense of direction, because trust me, I don’t.  If you ask me to point the way...well, pretty much anywhere...your chances of arriving at your destination will be iffy, at best.  

And I know I’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time on many occasions, not to mention the wrong place at the right time  But genuinely, “Don’t know where I am or how I got here” lost?  Not ringing a bell.

Now, there have been many times when I’ve marched to the beat of a different drummer and ended up in trouble as a result… Take the time I took my three-year-old sister, Ellen, for a walk around downtown Bethesda, Maryland. My Mom, Dad, Ellen, and I, plus my Granna and Granddaddy, were visiting my Uncle Flinn and Aunt Courtney, who lived in Bethesda at the time. And I guess I got bored, because I decided it would be a fine idea to take Ellen on an adventure.  (Poor Ellen is 7 years younger than I, and when we were growing up that usually made her an easy target accomplice, willing or not.)

But this particularly day my intentions really were honorable when I said, “Granddaddy, I’m taking Ellen for a walk, ok?” He gave me his sweet smile and his blessing (or so I thought) and said, “Ok.”

So off we went. I can’t tell you how many city blocks we covered, but I guess we were gone a long time in “grown-up minutes” because when we got back to the house, everyone was very excited—yes, that’s the word—EXCITED to see us.

It turned out Granddaddy forgot I told him what we were up to or, more likely, just plain didn’t hear me.  Either way, I was in big trouble. See how happy everyone (ok, just Ellen) looks in this picture, taken after our homecoming?  Recognize the look on my face, front right?? But my point is that I was never lost. I knew exactly what I was doing (if not where we were going), I had an alibi (albeit one with poor hearing), and I held her hand the whole way (which should have counted for something). 

Then there are other, less dramatic trips, when I start out knowing where I’m going and stay the course the whole way, only to arrive without a clue as to how I got there.  Ever get in your car to go to work (before that second cup of coffee) and when you get there you only have a vague recollection of driving the last couple of miles? Or worse, you can’t remember whether the light was really green at the last intersection? (Disclaimer: If you’re my friend Trooper Claude, I’m not sayin’ this has ever happened to me…ever hear of “literary license?”) Anyway, it’s not a good thing, being lost in thought while you’re driving. But it’s not the same as being lost.

Now I have a GPS and the chances of my getting lost are even less. If I even think about wandering off course, I get the “RECALCULATING” message, obviously recorded with a big sigh and a disgusted eye roll.  In fact, with the exception of the time I was in downtown Pittsburg, driving in circles around super tall buildings, my GPS hasn’t let me down.  And the best part? I don’t have to fold it like a map!

Did I mention I love my GPS? It’s true, but as much as I love my Garmin, I love my internal GPS – God Positioning System, a.k.a. the Holy Spirit – even more because it’s never let me down. Oh, I may have turned down the volume on occasion, or let my battery run down, but those are user errors. If I’ll stay tuned into His voice and focus, listening to the exclusion of all of the distractions around me, I’ll always be heading in the right direction.

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it." (Isaiah 30:21 NIV)

And on top of that, I have my map – His word…

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path. (Psalm 119:105)

…and my personal navigator – Jesus Christ.

 For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost. (Luke 19:10)
The truth is, I HAVE been lost, spiritually speaking….but I’m not anymore, and for that I’m eternally grateful.

Note:  This post is in memory of my Dad, my Granddaddy Settle, and my Uncle Flinn...I miss them all so very much.

Heartbroken

No one I know would argue when I say it’s been one stormy spring. In fact, it seems we’ve had more than our fair share of severe thunderstorms, complete with damaging hail and devastating tornadoes not typically seen in this part of the country. You could say we're weather weary.

The weather's made us a little jumpy, too.  We head home from work, school, and ball fields with one eye on the sky, watching for lightening and unusual cloud formations, ready to pull over and dive into a ditch if necessary.  Most of us now know where the safest places in our homes are in the event of a tornado and, if you live in the country like I do, you’ve laid up supplies of water and batteries.

In Brumley Gap, I’ve lost electricity for 12+ hours on at least three occasions in the last month alone. And when your water comes from a well, no power means no water, either. Of course, life without lights, showers, DirecTV, and, heaven forbid, high-speed internet is really just an inconvenience. Yet, if I’m being honest here, it makes me cranky. Embarrassing, but true. 

David Crigger 

But before you say I’ve lost all perspective, I know that my inconvenience is someone else’s nightmare. I watch the news and it’s been horrific. According to NOAA News, “April 2011 set a new record for the month with 875 tornadoes that killed 361 people,” some of them close to home in Southwest Virginia and East Tennessee. On Sunday, May 22, 2011, an EF-5 tornado hit the city of Joplin, Missouri, leaving an estimated 132 people dead and 750 others injured, with 156 unaccounted for in Joplin. And on May 24, 2011, deadly tornadoes claimed 18 additional lives in Oklahoma, Kansas, and Arkansas.

These are unimaginable statistics that I can hardly comprehend.  And that’s not all. Tsunamis…earthquakes…mudslides…wildfires…not to mention acts of terrorism…all can easily overwhelm me with reports of suffering, death, and devastation.  The news can be mind-numbing, and I sometimes worry that it will numb my very heart and soul, as well.

And then there are the disasters that don’t make the news…lives imploding in drug and alcohol addiction, child abuse, cancer diagnoses, divorce, and financial ruin, just to name a few. These are the everyday disasters that drop like bombs all around us and threaten to shatter our worlds and shake the very foundations of our faith.  

So how do I process all of this bad news, much less respond, as a Christian?

  

Well, I’ve been praying lately that God would break my heart for what breaks His. It’s not that I’m inviting heartache; I just don’t want to be numb. It feels like a good first step.

I've also been trying to come to terms with the fact that He looks upon the heart:

“The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” ~ 1 Samuel 16:7 (NIV)

I know this scripture, taken from the story of Samuel trying to figure which of Jesse’s sons God had in mind to be Saul’s successor as the next king of Israel, is more about physical appearances. But haven’t our “things” become a reflection of who we are, at least in this world?

So if all of the “stuff” that makes up my life was destroyed, what then? Could my heart stand alone? If everything in this world is stripped away, leaving only my heart, isn't my relationship with Jesus all that really matters in the end?

Ultimately, as heartsick as this world and its disasters may leave me, I want to focus on people’s hearts, and who they belong to.  And to do that I have to be heartbroken. It's the only way my heart can truly reflect the love of Jesus to people who are hurting for His mercy and grace.