This isn’t a coming to Jesus story. I’ve already made that journey. My redemption story is sprinkled with fragments which span the last 20 plus years. This isn’t
a lost soul in need of being found, for that part of me is found; and sitting comfortably in the midst of His greatness, overcome by the unending mercy, love and forgiveness, my Father graciously lavishes on me, while I live knowing I’m undeserving.
No, this story is about a young girl, turned woman, stuck in her early 40’s, lost and unsure where to go from here, and what happens next.
You may have been here at one time, there now, or you are still in the halls of living before this time begins. Perhaps you’ve never experienced the uncertainty, the doubt, the unfamiliar vastness I now
find myself in. You see, I became a mother at the age of 15, and a mother I remained for the next 26 years, with still a couple more years to go with my youngest. I know all about late night feedings, trips to doctors, diapers, crawling, walking, running,
learning, singing, discipline, failing and the outward expression of sheer success! I know school meetings, driving permits, licenses, graduations, and now I even know about marriages and daughter and son in laws. I know about the grandchildren, oh that blessed
Yes, I know many things. My life has been a long stream of currents in the world of parenting, marriage, careers, and living. I’ve come
to the end of those times in a way (except marriage)… I’ve come to the mouth of the river. I’m being dumped into the body of an ocean I’m unfamiliar in. As I find myself paddling for my life, I look around and see waves and waves of
life around me.
I understand this new empty time and openness should now feel like freedom, but I have to admit I feel more like a prisoner. As I take each step forward,
I have to force myself to move. This is unexpected. I knew the day would come, and I thought when I reached this point in the journey, I’d have my hands flying high and screaming for joy that I’ve made it. Instead, I sometimes seem to be fighting
the tide, and swimming back towards the river. With all the tributaries, boulders and debris that paved the way over the last few decades of my life, I still crave the familiar, the steady and the ‘me’ that once was.
This is about being lost, and while I’m not yet found, it will be the story of the expedition along the way. It is about the “what once was…and the what is to come..and the where I am today”
story. For if I wait to jot it all down, I may be near 100 when I start! Who knows where or even if, the journey ends.
One story. One woman. Lost…found.
Continue: What's Next?