Lost

IMG_20160805_091801Over the summer, I had a curious and (for me) unusual experience: I got lost.  No, it wasn’t the occasion when I was on a mountain in low cloud, when I had compass, map and GPS and was able to navigate the terrain easily despite not being able to see the landmarks.  It was on a lowish moor, under clear skies, when I could see the nearby lake and the town beside it.  But the path had disappeared.

Soon I found myself wading through bog, scrambling up rocks, pushing through heather, and fording streams to try to get to my destination.  Yet the whole time I knew where I was, but couldn’t find the way to where I wanted to be.

I felt on later reflection that the entire situation was symbolic of what we have been discussing in the last two blogs: it is possible to know exactly where you are, while being equally unsure whether you ought to be there.  Lost and not lost.  Which raises an interesting question: is it possible to be lost with God?

If we are walking with God, doing our best daily to put our hand in his hand, our feet where his feet have trod, to listen to his voice and follow the sound, can we ever really be lost?  Even in the midst of transition, when all we know is that we’re leaving one place and moving to another, possibly completely unknown, we cannot be truly lost.  God knows where we are, which direction we are facing and where we are going.

Which are all things we may be uncertain of.  Yet in our confusion and doubt we must trust the shepherd, whose gentle voice we have come to know, and even if we have no idea where we are, trust that he knows.  He is quite capable of turning us around, moving us in a different direction, or rescuing us should we really need it.  Just as Thomas Merton wrote:

Therefore I will trust in you always, though I may seem to be lost.

 

When we don’t know what God’s plan is…

Walking in God's footsteps?

Walking in God’s footsteps?

Last week’s prayer from Thomas Merton seems to have resonated with a number of our readers, so I thought I would follow up with an exploration of the confusion and doubt that sometimes runs beneath the surface of our otherwise confident exteriors.

Many mission workers exhibit an unwavering confidence in their sense of calling, and are utterly convinced that they are doing what God wants them to, and are where God wants them to be.  We rejoice in their faith!  They are people sought out by churches and agencies for their sense of calling.

But they also intimidate many of the rest of us who lack such confidence, who are prone to self-doubt and wonder if we are really supposed to be spending our lives doing what we currently do.  For many of us, life is less of a confident march of triumph into the Promised Land, and more a meandering wandering in the wilderness in the hope that somehow we’ll stumble on an oasis.  I suspect that there are many more of us in the latter group than in the former.

My own journey has reflected this division.  Apart from one or two occasions when I have felt very clearly guided, most of my ‘choices’ have been based on opportunities that have cropped up, to which I have responded by thinking “I’ll give this a go.  Maybe God will be in it.”  And invariably, God has been in it.

As Thomas Merton observes, it’s more the desire to please God than the actual doing of God’s will that is critical.  Despite Merton’s uncertainty he continues to walk on, trusting in a God he can’t see.  Echoing the words of the 23rd Psalm, he places his trust in a shepherd who knows what he is doing even though the sheep doesn’t.

For many of us, we don’t hear a voice saying “Go this way” very often, if at all.  It often comes afterwards, confirming for us that by godly instinct or divine happenstance we have stumbled on the right path.  As Isaiah said: ‘Your ears will hear a word behind you saying “This is the way, walk in it” whenever you turn to the right or to the left’ (Isaiah 30:21).  Sometimes it’s not even a word, just a retrospective recognition that God has been with us and things do seem to have worked out according to his plan.  Or as a friend of mine recently put it:

Just because I don’t know what God’s plan is, doesn’t mean he hasn’t got one.

 

A prayer from Thomas Merton

My Lord God,

I have no idea where I am going.

I do not see the road ahead of me.

I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself,

and the fact that I think I am following Your will

does not mean that I am actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please You

does in fact please You.

And I hope that I have that desire

in all that I am doing.

And I know that if I do this,

You will lead me by the right road

although I may know nothing about it.

Therefore will I trust You always,

though I may seem to be lost

and in the shadow of death,

I will not fear, for You are ever with me,

and will never leave me

to face my perils alone.