Lost & Confused

“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” – Luke 19:10, NIV

He had led them out of the turmoil, with the promise of something wonderful in store. A land that was unimaginable and grand and prospering. It would be beautiful, full of abundance.

So they set out, even though they were being pursued. He parted a sea for them, then crushed their enemies in their wake. Then they got to the desert, to the wilderness, and began their questions. Their faith was rocky, if not there at all. Their leader took down commands, only to discover that they stooped so low as to make false gods from material they manipulated.

He had a glimpse of the Promised Land, but he couldn’t go there. They couldn’t. Because instead of recognizing how far Yahweh had brought them, instead of being in awe of how God rescued them from the turmoil in Egypt, they doubted and questioned because of their hunger and grew frustrated and impatient and manipulated false gods because they grew impatient with the real one.

So there they stayed for 40 years, wandering, lost in the wilderness. Because they doubted, because they questioned and rebelled and didn’t give their Redeemer a chance, because they focused on me, being lost, they never got to see the Promised Land.

“Oh, how often they rebelled against Him in the wilderness and grieved His heart in that dry wasteland. Again and again, they tested God’s patience and provoked the Holy One of Israel. They did not remember His power and how He rescued the from their enemies. They did not remember His miraculous signs in Egypt, His wonders on the plain of Zoan.” -Psalm 78:40-42, NLT

The wilderness is where we rebel, where we grieve God’s heart. He will make His path known for those who humble themselves and choose Him.

But how often we fail. How often we want to stick to our own path, go with how we’re feeling, and the opinions of anyone else. How often we forget to set aside time for the King of Kings – because that’s what the Father longs for. Time. Our love, and our hearts poured out to Him.

The Bible says that He knows the plans He has for us, but He never demands His own way. He gives us free will, because He desired true love. In our free will, we rebel. We wander in the wilderness. We rant and complain, we hunger and thirst. We cling to things that we think will promote us and put us on the right path. We make the grave mistake of failing to go to the One who holds eternity first. The God who sees things we can’t, who understands we don’t. We rebel while He waits.

We get so lost and misguided in this world and by it, but even so, Jesus waits. He patiently waits.

We think it’s easier to do everything else, all of the research, all the weight of our “friends’” opinions, instead of going to the one who has never left us or forsaken us. We think it’s an inconvenience to Jesus, a small matter to Him (even though it’s important to us). And then, when things don’t go as planned, when we’re totally lost in the maze, we get angry with the One who we never went to to begin with.

Surely, He could’ve directed us.

Surely, He would’ve set us on the right path.

But we were not still. We chose that friend’s advice. We went with that person’s opinion. We did not go to Christ first, who would’ve guided us in the right way in His perfect timing.

So we messed up, wandered in the wilderness, and take our frustrations to God even though He’s not to blame. But maybe He’s the only one who can actually handle it.

I don’t want to wander in the wilderness, I don’t want to grieve Jesus. I joke about how convenient it would be if He would just stamp a to-do list on us when we’re born. Where to go, what to study, what to do, who to marry, where to move. The unknown, the wilderness scares me. I so desperately want to be in God’s will, that I run before listening to move even though I don’t feel peace. I overthink and overanalyze to the point where I’m so laden with anxiety of what I should do to be in His will, that I actually fail to go to Christ about what His will actually is.

I’m not a good listener. I’m not good at being still and quieting the almost never-ending dialog in my head. I think, I imagine, I worry and grieve.

But what would happen if I was still enough to lay out my plans, my hopes, my desires, my fears before Him? What if I laid out my requests and dreams?

He could say no.

He could also say not now.

And He could also give me His wisdom on how to go about it. Peace for where I’m concerned, guidance for the issues that I’m facing. Knowledge on when and where and how, plus discernment on who to trust.

I want to please Jesus. I want so desperately to be in His will. But we all get stuck in the wilderness at some point. We all think that our own path is correct. And maybe we become like the Pharisees, so wrapped up in going through the motions, thinking that our thoughts and our worries and our rules are pleasing to God, that we fail to be raw and real and desperate and broken and humble before our Father in Heaven, who already knows our innermost thoughts and desires.

I can’t imagine how deeply it must grieve the Father’s heart for us to get so lost in the wilderness. For Him to know the joy, the plans and the direction He has awaiting us, but to see us stuck, to see us going anywhere and everywhere except Him.

If we run to Him, He won’t be inconvenienced. If we nag Him and ask Him all sorts of things and what to do and where to go, He won’t be frustrated or upset; I think it will delight His heart.

Because He died to give us life. He came here so we can have hope and life and abundance. He’s the Father who adores His children and wants to guide them along the right paths. His right paths. Brining glory and honor to His Name. (Psalm 23:3) 

We want a cure for the desert, a home with water and trees in a parched, dry land. We want out of the wilderness, and to have hope when there doesn’t seem to be any.

We hate the feeling of being lost, of being stuck in the muck and the mire. Of not knowing what’s next and wandering.

Sometimes, in this side of heaven, it feels like there isn’t a cure for feeling lost, for being lost. We open maps and our phones, we ask directions. But until you’re in the midst of a national park, lost in the mountains, without any cell service, you will be wondering around lost until you find the rescuer, usually a park ranger. Or are found by them (in my very real experience). But until we finally find the way, until we know we’re where we want to be, there’s always an underlying feeling of insecurity when we’re not yet to our destination. 

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” -2 Timothy 1:7, NKJV

A sound mind. A trusting, confident, sound mind. A mind that knows that no matter what the conditions of the world are, we can have faith that we have confidence of a sound mind because of Jesus. Because of His grace, we can know that we are found in Him.

“For our sake He made Him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.” – 2 Corinthians 5:21, ESV

Righteousness is something we could never obtain without Christ and His perfect sacrifice. And a sound mind is a gift for all who accept Jesus. We have the Holy Spirit living in us, who gives us power, His love, and His sound mind. We have the mind of Christ. So even though this world will do everything to make us lost and confused, we can remember Who we are found in.

Yet there are diseases – awful diseases, which threaten to pull us away. They pull family members away. It’s heartbreaking and frustrating, and overwhelming to the person and their family. And that is hard to understand. Why there hasn’t been a cure for horrendous heartbreaking diseases like dementia and Alzheimer’s is something difficult to grasp. We pray desperately for a cure, and try to eat the right foods – but when people find out that they’re genetically predisposed, and where do you go from there?

Do you live in constant fear of the illness you may or may not get; or to you choose life and your family, and choose to be in the present as long as you can? Which is something we should all be doing.

Soundness of mind, having the mind of Christ, is a gift. And so often, we take it for granted.

It’s hard not knowing what the future holds. It’s difficult trying to understand why we have to be caught in the midst of the unknown, when Christ is always for us. When He says He knows the plans He has for us. It then becomes difficult to understand why He doesn’t make those plans abundantly clear.

Yet He does give us a road map. He does direct us. The guidance for our lives, the map that we need, is the Bible. From Genesis through Revelation. We want to know what the future holds and the direction we need to go, and everything that we should do, our work, and the people we should be involved with on this earth. The Bible provides the key road map to what matters most: Eternity. And it also provides the key road map to who matters most: Jesus.

From the beginning, since sin entered the world, people were desperate for the Messiah. The Promised One. All of the scriptures pointed to Him. Then He arrived, welcoming everyone who would seek Him. But today, so many are still searching, too prideful to the ways of this world to recognize all the promises He holds. He always was, is and is still to come.

We want to hear His voice, His direction. But He speaks to us with a still, small voice.

We take tests, we fear the unknown. We wonder what will happen and when. But at the end of the day, the best thing we can do with the unknown is place our faith in the one to whom all things are known. He sees all things, and He makes all things work together for our good.

We grasp and yearn for understanding, for clarity, we pray for things to happen or not to happen. But when Christ is truly in control, when He truly sets us free, when our faith and the hope of our unknowns is truly in His hands – we can know the future. Because Jesus is the future.

“Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for My sake will find it.” – Matthew 10:39, NIV

Maybe there had been a storm. He was out playing with his friends, exploring, on the outer edges when the sky grew dark. He heard the call and his friends scattered back to the group, but maybe his foot was stuck, or he tripped.

That’s when the horrendous downpour hit. Once he freed his foot, he was swallowed up by the rain, blinded by it. He yelped and hollered, but got shoved off course, slipping and sliding down a seemingly never-ending path of water mixed with earth.

He started trembling, shaking. He’d been taught to wander but stick with his group, and he had. But out much could change in an instant. He closed his eyes against the rain, and fear until he finally came to a stop.

He was surrounded by rocks and trees, away from his group, away from his family. Away from his leader. The wise one who always seemed to know just where they should go. When to go back home.

He was well and truly alone and lost. And oh, so terrified.

He curled up in a ball, bruised and hurt, crying for anyone, for any help. But this area was unfamiliar to him as well as the rest of his group, and certainly must be for his leader. Maybe they forgot about him.

Maybe he was lost forever. After all, who was one little one amongst the ninety-nine?

But, as the sun finally came out again, he heard a voice in the distance. He heard that call. The one just for him and his group, his flock. But this time, specifically, it felt like it was just for him. He was so sore though, barely able to stand much less run toward the sound. But it grew closer, and he began to bleat. It was soft and gentle, but the sound of his leader’s voice grew closer and closer.

Then, with a cry of joy, his leader was suddenly running to him, then checking on him, murmuring and praying over every ache and sore he had. His shepherd, with shouts of joyful praise, put the lost little sheep over his shoulders and carried him home. The sheep’s friends and family rejoiced, and the shepherd ran about, telling his friends and neighbors to rejoice with him over the little sheep.

He felt so insignificant and thought he would be forever in the wilderness, but he was being rejoiced over! For he had been lost, but now, he was found.

“Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep. I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in Heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.” – Luke 15:3-7, NIV