Needing to be Found

“I want to believe the stories, that there really is someone who would search the whole mountainside just to find that one lost thing that he loves, and bring it home.”

These words, penned by Sara Zarr, have stirred in my heart for the past week. Because I just read a novel about a girl who lost her faith only to find it again. Only to let herself be found. And while I’ve never really doubted the fact that there is Someone out there who would search the whole mountainside, I’ve definitely been in the place of needing to be found.

To be perfectly honest, I find (pun intended) myself in that place more often than I’d like. Curled up on the side of a mountain, waiting for rescue because I can’t remember my way home from here. So here’s my confession:

Sometimes I say I’m okay when really I’m not.
Sometimes I pretend to have everything under control when, in reality, I’m in control of nothing.
Sometimes I smile like nothing in the world is the matter when on the inside I’m falling apart.
Sometimes I force myself to find words when the words are slow in coming.
Sometimes I just need to be found.
Sometimes we all just need to be found.

And maybe… Maybe you’re in the place where you really want to believe the stories. That there really is someone who would search the whole mountainside just to find that one lost thing that he loves, and bring it home.

The stories are true. They are more than true. So hold on, dear child, hold on. Though the storms of life are raging outside the little crevice you’ve tucked yourself into, the Shepherd is on His way. He’s searching the mountainside and it won’t be long until He finds you—that one lost thing that He loves—and brings you home.

One Lost Thing

Drifting Through Life

“I am not angel, nor am I demon. I am not a ghost as some would like to believe. I am a Drifter, something God created in his spare time and then forgot on the fringes of reality.”

Whoever had the idea to put those words on the back cover of Sharon Carter Rogers’ newest book, Drift, knew what they were doing. Those words were so haunting, so captivating and intriguing. Here was a man who thought he had been forgotten by God. Throughout the entire novel, I felt my heart reaching out to this lost creature, yearning to see him restored. And I found myself cheering when he finally reached this conclusion about himself:

“I am not an angel. Not a demon or a ghost. I am something very different, maybe something better. I am a secret, something God created and then hid on the fringes of reality. A tool destined to do as He did, to seek and save that which was lost, to bring lost things back to His hand. I am not an angel. I am a Drifter, and for too long I have forgotten what that means.”

It’s not often that I read a novel where the hero has completely forgotten who he is and what he was meant for. Heroes, after all, have a sense of purpose. But the longer I read this book, the more I understood the Drifter. And the more I understood the Drifter, the more I saw myself in his character. In a way, I feel that this Drifter saved more than just the book heroine. He saved me. You see…

I am not an angel. Not a demon or a ghost. I’m something very different, and yes, even something better. I am a human, something formed by God’s own two hands and sustained by His love. Created for a purpose and destined for here and now. I am not an angel. I am a child of the King of kings, and for too long I have forgotten what that means.

But a certain Drifter reminded me that I do indeed have a purpose, even when I’ve forgotten what that purpose may be. So perhaps I should stop “drifting through life” and live as if I am sure of my purpose, knowing that, in time, my purpose will be fully revealed to me.