Sometimes I get so very lost. Lost in a tangled web of my own thoughts. My questions feel too big or the answers seem over the hill and far away. My feelings are too close to be understood, clouding up the way through. Where am I?
I got myself a cup of tea from the takeaway stand and headed off between the dew studded cobwebs and the pine trees. And so began a journey I’ve been on so many times before. A journey where I say to God, “Ooh this looks fun,” and wander off into the middle of nowhere, with some vague conviction that it’s the right way to go. A conviction which seems a lot stronger before I set off than it does about five minutes in.
I entered a silent world of pine tree lines, the floor carpeted with their needles, following what I thought was a little dirt track. Which was in fact a mud track for bikes. Which quickly became a mud slide down a 45 degree hill. I had to pull myself up using silver birch trees as levers. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. But maybe there would be something beautiful at the top...
The problem with having no map and no particular plan is that you’re never completely sure it’s going to work out. I try to hold to the assurance of knowing I’ve never got lost and dead before but there’s that nagging doubt that there is always a first time.
At the top of the hill the path disappeared and I found myself in a dense patch of trees. Tricky. I’m sure if this was Gods idea then there will be something worth seeing. If it was his idea. Maybe I dreamed that.
After forcing my way through a wall of branches worthy of sleeping beauty, I stepped out into to a brown swamp. Lovely. Turns out my trainers are not waterproof on the top.
I turned to look at where I’d just come. Nope, not a good option. Better to keep going. But where was I going? Idiot. I squelched slowly on, my eyes fixed on my submerged feet. Where am I? God where have you brought me? What on earth am I doing here?
This is the place I find myself. Unsure of where I am and what is to come. Unclear about the point of the journey or the destination. Lost.
But then, just as I was beginning to give up, I found myself standing on a path. And what a path. Looking up I saw a gap in the trees, and a summit of big empty sky. Yes! Something to see.
I puffed to the top of the hill and the miles opened out at my feet. I could see to the horizon in every direction. Five huge stones named the counties that lay beyond them. Sweeps of trees in crimson and mustard, and behind them the grey hills. A crease of light was sending an apricot flush across the bottom of the dark clouds. And visible below me, tucked in behind a belt of trees, the toilets, the takeaway tea and the car park.
My heart was slowing after the walk. And my breaths were big. We made it! There was something beautiful to be found after all. And then as so often is the way when I finally stop, there was that whisper.
Can you really ever be lost when you’re with the one who knows the way?
I don’t like not knowing the way things will turn out. I don’t like not having a plan. It feels fun at the beginning but there are moments of real fear when we know we can’t go back and we don’t know where we are going. Why have you brought me here?
I look at the world and I’m not sure of anything right now. Certainly not sure of the way. Perhaps that is always true, it’s just more obvious right now. My wonderful auntie said something to me a while ago that really stuck with me - that it’s not being strong and independent that makes us human - but being dependent. We are supposed to be dependent. We are supposed to not know the way.
At uni I went to a small group with a gorgeous Scottish lady who used to quote Psalm 103 all the time: “He remembers that we are dust.” I did not understand this and thought it a totally bizarre thing to keep bringing up - what a depressing thought. But it is actually so freeing. He remembers what we’re made of even if we don’t. We are not God, we are humans. Beautiful, weak, dependent, and unsure. Made of dust. Wonderful, potential-filled, dream-stirring dust that can be ignited to light up the dark. Star dust.
We don’t know the way. We’re not supposed to.
But He knows. He knows. He knows where we’re going. I can never be lost when I’m with him.
Assurance comes not from knowing where we are going but from knowing who we’re with And sometimes I need to be reminded of just how very big and not-human is the one I am holding on to. He is not like me. He does not get tired or confused or unsure. He is not making it up as he goes along. When I looked at the world in March, it seemed to be falling apart at the seams. But when I looked into his eyes, he was not worried. He was not panicking. He knows where we are going. He knows the way. He is the way. He is the way we get there - be it hand in hand or by piggy back.
“Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”
Jesus answered, “I am the way...”
John 14:5-6
In life I don’t know the results, the outcomes, the next steps or the plan. But I know the one who will be with me through it all. The one who makes the journey worth it all. The one who makes it beautiful.
This is from my journal in March, just after lock down was announced. It was before homeschool began but I had a fatigue crash in the wake of the announcement and felt completely lost.
Here is what I wrote: “You look on me today as I collapse in my heap of pink and white pillows. I am heavy but you are here. I don’t want to loose the precious recovery you’ve given me Jesus. I am scared that the cost is too high. I can hardly even write when my arms feel like someone has punched them and my temples throb over - over. Working so hard to keep my eyelids open. My brain is too calloused and shut down to form anything at all. Let this be my worship. I have just a thought and it is your loveliness.”
Perhaps we don’t need a map. Just a thought of his loveliness. And a hand in his.
“He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary
and young men stumble and fall;
But those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.”
Isaiah 40:29-31
Katy x