I get lost, a lot. Almost every time I leave the house in fact. I firmly believe Bilbo Baggins when he said “It’s a dangerous business…, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.” I wouldn’t have the first inkling what it would be like to go directly from point A to point B. And I kinda like it that way. I “find” many things this way, and I usually end up hunting those found things down again so I can share them with my Lovelies. This kind of getting lost, is wonderful. The lost that leads to something uncovered, undiscovered. We could all use more of this.
Then there’s the getting lost in my mind, my tasks, my plans. I do this quite often too. But the strange difference is that the aforementioned getting lost is freeing. It appeals to my inner gypsy, to that explorer who is too often feeling tethered by responsibility. But the getting lost that can happen in my own mind, in my own home is terrifying and imprisoning. I can sit down to do something (any small task or project) and suddenly be gripped with anxiety and fear, lost. When I think of Bilbo’s warning, I think it applies more truly to the flooding river of my mind than my front door. And I’m left with only one option, to pray. When I appeal to God in these moments, His comfort and peace come to me and I am humbled and grateful. But my prayer should really be about being spared from that kind of lost. God, please keep me found, let my mind not have the power to make me lost in it, swept away by all that there is to do, and plan. Amen.
Then yesterday, in all of the doing and busyness, my son lost his first tooth. He was traumatized for 15 minutes. The blood, the pain, the sound. It really freaked him out. When he recovered, he wanted to examine his tooth. And while he was looking at it, he dropped it in the car! The car!!! We had all just piled into the car after a day of swimming at the park, the car was a wreck. It was full of towels, wet things, dry things, drink cups, shoes, school bags and detritus. And he lost his tooth in all of this. What is a mother to do? Pull over, gently remove every article, one at a time, out of the way. Lifting, shaking, jostling in the hope of finding a baby tooth in the mess. Talk about a needle in a haystack! But I found it. Somehow, 3 feet away from his chair, underneath a towel and a shoe. And I just about bawled. Of course I was relieved to find the tooth, but I was relieved to think that if I (not all knowing and all powerful) could find that tiny little tooth in this mess, then God would never have trouble finding me in the ocean of my mind. I will pray that God keeps me from getting lost in here, but when I do, I know that my God will find me, gently and sweetly and He will restore me and rescue me over and over again. I think it’s so strange the way God teaches us what we need to learn. Thank you Lord for letting The Boy lose his tooth, then lose it again, so that it could be found.