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?