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.

Good Question

Good Question

Even as I’m typing this, our church's youth praise band is taking the stage at Resurrection – an annual youth conference in Gatlinburg, Tennessee which, according to the website mission statement, “brings youth groups together for awesome fellowship and authentic worship, where the Gospel is proclaimed, and youth have a spiritual renewal and a closer walk with Christ.”

More than 12,000 people were at Resurrection last year...pretty heady stuff for a band of kids who typically play in our church basement on Sunday nights for a crowd of maybe 30 contemporaries. But this is more than just a performance; this is worship, and the opportunity to reach other teens – a lot of other teens – with the good news about Jesus.

Just writing about what they’re experiencing right now brings back a sweet memory of when my son Ben was in high school and playing with the youth band at that time. They also were privileged to play at Resurrection one January weekend and even got to meet Chris Tomlin backstage. I hope it’s a good memory for Ben, as well. In fact, both of my children experienced Resurrection several times, and it’s my prayer that those weekends were a big part of their faith journeys. Again, from the Resurrection website: “Resurrection lasts more than just 48 hours – it’s something that accompanies youth on their walk with Christ all year long.”

But back to this weekend, or actually, several months ago… Our youth band was sharing in a Friday night worship service at a nearby church when, as they were being called to the stage, the worship leader asked, “What is your band called, anyway?” They looked at each other, perplexed because they hadn’t come up with collective name, and Katie replied, “Good question!” So Good Question they became. And the more I’ve though about it, the more I’ve come to believe, as comedic writer Dave Barry says, “That’s a great name for a band!” Follow me…

If you’re in a band that’s all about the music, then any catchy name will do. But if you’re about lifting up the name of Jesus through your music, then you have to ask the question: Who do you say He is? It’s the only way to make a difference and it’s the only question that really counts in the end.

When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, "Who do people say the Son of Man is?" They replied, "Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets."

"But what about you?" he asked. "Who do you say I am?" Simon Peter answered, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." ~ Matthew 16:13-16

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. ~ Colossians 1:15 (NIV)

Casting Our Nets

It didn’t work. Writing about the word cast didn’t release me from thinking about it. If anything, it’s been on my mind even more than it was before my previous post. So here are a few more thoughts about casting…

The Old Testament was all about casting. Casting idols, casting pieces for the temple, and even casting spells are commonplace in the first few books of the Bible. But those examples don’t fit the definition I wrote about in my last post—throwing forcefully and with purpose.

This instance of casting does work:

As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men. ~ Mark 1:16-17 (NIV)

A friend of mine tried her hand at casting a net while on vacation at the beach one summer, and she told me it was hard...

“Trust me. It only looks easy,” she said. “First you have to loop it around your wrist and arrange it just so, or you’ll end up tangled up in it yourself. Then you have to take aim with your feet a certain distance apart and turn your arm at the exact moment you’re flinging the net into the water.”

Not that I didn’t believe her, but I did a little internet research on my own and found this handy 9-step guide to throwing a cast net, should you ever need it. Personally, I’m pretty sure I’d starve to death before I ever caught any fish using this method.

My point is this: When Jesus called Simon and Andrew from their ordinary lives as fishermen to join him on the extraordinary adventure of a lifetime, I think he expected them cast their nets for souls with as much fervor and enthusiasm. And even if our technique isn’t perfect, we should be fishing with the same sense of urgency.