Being Lost is Beautiful

This week someone reminded me that being lost is beautiful. Huddled on my blanket at Ocean beach, a latte in my hand and a thick knit scarf wrapped round my neck and pulled up over my head, I watched the water. Waves turning over engulfing themselves and a bewitching thick mist settling on my lap - gloominess all around. The sand looked like mini mountains well trodden by giants and every few seconds they shifted and slid. I wondered what tiny creatures below were rocking the shore above and if they knew I was watching them.

I come to the beach when I feel lost. The vastness of the ocean reminds me that the very things that scare me are exactly what my soul needs. This day was a typical San Francisco morning. Karl the Fog made the whole scene drab and to be honest it didn’t take long before I started pondering how this very moment seemed to depict my present life and latest struggles. In my previous post I wrote about faith – it’s grandeur and our opportunity to inhabit a world so unlike the one most of us are used to. But writing about that stuff and living it are two totally different experiences, especially when you’re feeling as confused and lost as I have recently. I’ve been feeling this funk for a few weeks and beyond the tears, frustration and questions, it’s forced me to dig deeper into Jesus. What does faith look like in a season of confusion?

The problem with feeling lost is fearing that I’ll never be found. I fear that I’ll be disoriented and unsettled forever. After all, none of us mind being lost for a moment, but as times passes and you realize you really have no sense of which way to turn, well that’s when the real fear begins to grip you. That’s me right now. Did I take a wrong turn? Have I missed God? Why am I feeling directionless in certain areas? There’s a sense that somehow I may be the one to blame and that my own choices have sent me on rabbit trail that I may never recover from. Hopelessness is nipping at my heels. But just then, as I sat on the beach surrounded by ashen clouds, the sun broke through in the most forceful fashion. It felt as if the entire stream of daylight was directed only at me, illuminating every speck of sand and curl of each wave. I tore off my coat and scarf and basked in this unforeseen shift.

Everything can turn in an instant.

Mundane seasons that seem eternal, do come to an end.

Desires that appear impossible, become imaginable.

Light that felt so isolated, illuminates in an instant.

The glory of being lost is the moment we experience feeling found. Our wandering might continue and the questions may still exist, but when the warm Son breaks in, cracking our sad skies and irradiating our view, we know we are found. Found by love. Found by the One who never leaves us. Faith in confusion is the capacity to transition our eyes off of the road, with all it’s twists and turns, and instead marvel at the companion journeying with us - Jesus. Our landscape may not change but our heart perspective certainly will. When we meet Him we are found. Again, and again and again.