Once when I was very little, I went up to a familiar pair of hairy legs in a shop. Hugged one of those legs…
It’s one of my earliest memories because it’s hard to erase abject mortification.
I also remember my mom telling me and my sisters – often – that if we got lost in the supermarket or the mall, we were to stay where we were, and she would find us. Don’t try to find me, she’d say. Stay right where you are and I’ll come looking. If you’re looking for me and I’m looking for you, we could be going in circles.
I think that’s good advice.
When you’re lost, stay where you are.
So when you’re lost, seek God. But know that sometimes seeking God isn’t hurtling through aisles, knocking things to the floor in a frantic attempt to find or figure out where you are and making such a din that you wouldn’t hear Him if He was standing right in front of you, calling your name. Sometimes seeking God means just staying put. And instead of asking flustered and frightened, Where am I?! –
Simply stop – slow down – and say –
Here I am. I’m here!
Please find me, God.
Yours is a kind, good Father. He’ll hear that prayer. He’ll come running. And you’ll know it’s Him.
So maybe, when you’re lost or alone or unsure or afraid or confused by the rows and rows of cereals and kinds of rice, maybe that’s not the time to make big decisions or go it alone or try to be a hero.
When your safety is shaken, maybe that’s not the time to trust your panicked judgement. Rather, still your beating heart and get your bearings. Try to remember what led you into this aisle, in the first place. Until you’re sure of where you are in relation to everything else, commit to the aisle in which you find yourself. Bide your time. Be expectant. And wait for the Father to find you.
(Unless it’s the chocolate aisle. Then run. Run away.)
And remember that always, really, you are already found.
. . .
Image credit: Zeta Original Digital