Some folks consider getting lost an adventure. I am not one of those people.
I find nothing adventurous or exhilarating about trying to find my way out of a navigational black hole in a strange city. I usually have a pretty good sense of direction, but some cities are diabolically designed to be baffling.
Take Athens, Ga., for example. I get lost every time I get near that Bermuda Triangle of the South. I always get a “Twilight Zone” feeling that there are drivers traveling next to me on the inner and outer “loops” of Athens who’ve been trying to find their way out of town since Eisenhower was president.
I recently drove to Athens for a speaking engagement and true to form, I got lost. I eventually happened upon the right roads only as a result of a divinely orchestrated series of accidentally correct turns.
A few years ago, I traveled through Athens with a van full of ladies returning home from Atlanta. It should have been easy to get through Athens. It wasn’t. It never is. I stopped at a convenience store to ask for directions (I am a woman; I WILL ask for directions.) The clerk had obviously been hoisting a few intoxicating beverages from the store’s cooler, and due to his altered state of consciousness and thick foreign accent, I emerged from the store more confused than when I went in. Although I didn’t understand anything he said, I somehow miraculously wandered onto the right roads and found my way back to Greenwood.
Getting lost in cities is no fun. An unwritten law of the universe apparently dictates that when I get lost, I am doomed to drift into the seediest parts of town. Like a moth to the flame, I mysteriously find myself sucked onto streets littered with bail bondsmen, “fast cash” businesses and liquor stores.
Of course, getting lost on country roads is no picnic, either. Awhile back, I was leading a two-car caravan from Brevard, N.C., out to a retreat center. I must have blinked and missed a road sign; before long, I had a sinking sense that we were quite lost.
We pulled our cars over to the side of the mountain road and one of my friends said, “I think I saw a sign back there. Let’s walk back and check it out.”
We did, and to our amazement, it was one of those “You are HERE” maps that showed where we were standing and how to get where we needed to be. I thought only shopping malls had “You are HERE” signs, but one had graciously been planted right where we needed it, precisely in the middle of nowhere.
Life can sometimes seem like quite a confusing stretch of road. It’s easy to get distracted, miss a turn, go miles down the wrong road, ignore the inner voice urging us to turn around, and find ourselves lost in the wilderness or wandering around in a treacherous part of town.
But God has graciously placed a “You are HERE” sign in our midst to set us on the right path.
His name is Jesus and He says, “I am the way, the truth and the life … ” (John 14:6).
We may be lost, but we don’t have to stay lost. Not when God so passionately wants us to find our way back home … to Him.
I’ve been lost and I’ve been found, and I’ll tell you what: found is a whole lot better.