In Holland, biking is the main form of transportation. And though housing is typically close
together is a city, I lived in an abandoned military house a 30 minute bike
ride from town. My first night I was dropped off after a younger youth group
meeting and after picking up my bike, my boss pointed me in the general
direction of my house and said goodbye and that we would meet tomorrow. I had
about 48 hours of being awake at this point.
It was near midnight, and my bike light didn’t work. Instead of traveling 30 minutes as it was
supposed to take to get home, it took me almost 2 hours!
I was so lost.
After 2 false starts, I headed down the correct bike path
on the polder to get home. I pedaled
furiously, building up horror stories in my head of what the noises along the
canal could be. I rode over another
small bridge and wondered if I had hit the main road. Everything was so dark with no street light
or bike lights. Not even a working cell
phone to hold up in hopes its screen would add clarity. So I leaded forward and all of a sudden I saw
two eyes looking at me. It was a cow! The guard dog was not happy and upon waking
to my presence he began to chase me off of the farm! I pedaled as hard as I could, hoping I would
stay on the path and not fall into the water cradling both sides of the bike
path. A handful of ducks started by me
flew in front of my face and some of their feathers brushed me, scaring me all
the more. I ended up in two more farms
before I made it to the main road, and then there was one more problem…right or
left?
I began to question why God had put me there after
all. Why me? I was only 18. I didn’t feel ready for this. I was a foreigner in a strange and all I
wanted was to find my home. I finally got off my bike and in my weeping and
talking to God, I told Him I was lost and if he wanted me home, I needed his
help to get there. I wanted to give up.
Stop right there and just lay down hoping the attacking ducks would keep
their distance from me and I could magically tap my heels and be back in my
bed.
It was then I saw a
familiar sign…one in English!
Texaco! It wasn’t much to go off
of, and I didn’t see it when Peter pointed out my house from the car earlier
that day when I only been awake for 36 hours at that point. Texaco…Texas! A sign I could read that had lights around
it! So I began to move towards it. And
eventually God led me home! But I can’t
even express to you how relived I was when I opened my front gate that
night.
It reminds me of old lyrics saying, I once was lost, but
now I’m found. You see, I realized what a joy it is to be lost. It means you are wanted, someone is searching
for you.
Have you ever lost your keys? They are of value to you, so you tear apart
your room, pull of the couch pillows and look everywhere to find them. See I was lost, and God searched and searched
to find me...because he chose me and loved me.
No matter what paths I tried to take on my own, He brought me home. (Isaiah 53:6)
Where
in your life do you feel/have felt like you are taking matters into your own
hands?
What
would it look like to wait on God for something He has promised you?
