By Jenny Dendinger
Years ago, while on a field trip at the Audubon Zoo, my son went missing. He was only 4 years old at the time. One minute, he was happily following a peacock around the courtyard, and the next, he was gone.
Fighting back panic, my eyes darted around searching for his blonde head.
My heart sank. He had vanished.
I quickly expanded my search, praying for God to guide me in the right direction.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I found him.
I locked eyes on my sweet boy whose face was full of panic and tears, and I ran. I screamed his name and scooped him up into my arms. I kissed his flushed cheeks and hugged his trembling body until it melted into mine.
After things calmed down, I asked him what happened. It turned out he’d walked behind a big potted plant, and when he looked up, he couldn’t see us. He immediately panicked and started searching for me.
From his limited point of view, I had disappeared.
As I was preparing for Lent, God put this memory on my heart. While recalling what happened, I recognized some similarities in my spiritual life. How often do I run around frantically searching for God, yet I feel like I can’t find him? I know he’s here, and from the story of the lost sheep, I assume that he’s looking for me. So why do I always feel so lost?
Then God reminded me of the end of the story. Before finishing our day at the zoo, I explained to my kids that when we’re both running around searching for each other, it only adds to the chaos, making it harder to reunite. If they ever got lost again, I told them to stay in one spot and allow me to find them.
If you’re ever lost, be still.
So that’s what I’ve been doing lately – working on being still and trusting in God to find me.