Lost & Found

Since becoming a Christian I no longer feel a need to follow astrological signs and the like.  I did it more out of fun as a child and young adult, but Taurus or Aries, I know who I am and its not defined by a sun sign. Having said that, I come from a family mostly of Virgos and it’s been a bit of a running joke in our family as it’s quite apparent that I am not one, at least in the organizational sense of the word.  Astrological folklore tells us Virgos are extremely clean and organized.  Let’s just say I wasn’t and could more identify with whatever sign relates to being the absent minded professor.

The second month that I lived in England I accidentally sent my house keys home on a plane to Canada.  It’s not a joke, rather more of a horror my mother would tell you, as she grasped the plastic bag full of Christmas presents from my friend, only to find a sapphire blue set of Greek worry beads that she would know as my key chain.  I discovered that I was locked out of my flat when I got home from sending my friend off at the airport along with my family’s Christmas presents and entry to my homestead.  I camped out in our communal area waiting for the landlord on that Saturday morning to ride in on his white horse.  It turns out it was his white horse’s day off so let’s just say I wasn’t making any friends or influencing people.

The house keys shipped home are but classic moments in my life.  Less and less as I’ve become a parent and have to pack everything but the kitchen sink when I leave home with my daughter, but I do have these moments that pop up every now and then only to remind me that I haven’t entirely lost myself.  I lose things.  Cameras, money, keys, important papers.  I know I don’t have attentional issues as I can focus on tasks like nobody’s business.  It’s more I think of being in my head and getting lost in daydreams and reveries and I kind of like that about myself.  Caring more for concepts and people than possessions.  Oh the rationalizations…

I’ve lost many a possession on this journey and there’s been times when I’ve been completely lost myself.  Not in the geographical sense of the word but just in terms of my place on the planet.  I think it's part of my wiring too, I can easily escape into fantasy and in order to be happy and present in reality it's important for me to anchor myself, ground myself, on an almost daily basis.

In my moments of feeling lost, it's me alone in the woods, and not my friends or my family can help me navigate my way out.  It's something that is within that needs to be rediscovered, reconnected with, and then I am back in the game.  What's different now though is there is Someone in the woods with me who is able to help me navigate and find clarity.  Find myself. Find Him.  He's okay with my confusion, or my complexities, and in fact, he's reminded me that it's part of my perfect design and I don't need to change it, or tweak it.  He is showing me gently and with compassion that the things that need changing are for my ultimate good and he helps mold and shape and reform parts of me like a potter to clay.  He's proven himself faithful to be my anchor. 

And so, in my moments of losing the most important of things; myself, I am reminded that I do have a parent that holds the keys to my home.  My heart, and His.  Together, we are found.

"Keep on asking, and you will be given what you ask for.  Keep on looking, and you will find.  Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened."  Matthew 7:7