Lost

A few weeks ago the boys and I accompanied Robin to the Mall. While Robin meandered from store to store, Elijah, Noah and I tried to remain focused and patient, anxiously waiting for Robin to utter those immortal words, "Okay, I've seen enough." Unfortunately, she was in a good shopping mood this day.

We wind up in Old Navy. Robin goes to the "girl" side of the store, while the boys and I head for the clearance section of the store...because they usually have balls and frisbees and other cool stuff we can throw around. They also have that cool rolling ladder that says "Employees Only"...so we like to pretend we work for Old Navy.

On this day, however, they have some good deals on little guy clothes, so Noah and I begin the process of trying to find something a husky two-year old can fit into. I become so engaged in finding a bargain, that I lose track of Elijah...and as I stop to get a bearing on where "#1 son" is at, he's nowhere to be found.

And I panicked!

BIG TIME!

I ran up and down the aisles calling his name, but got no reply. Sprinting (a relative term) to the front of the store with "big 'un" under my arm, I asked if anyone had seen a little blond-haired, blue eyed boy. No one had...and as they called Mall Security, I went back to find Robin, dreading the news I would have to share. Before doing so, I went back to the last place I had seen Elijah...and there he was sticking his head out of a rack of clothes...the same rack of clothes he had been hiding in! He giggled, taking great pride in the fact that he was able to elude his father. But he could tell Daddy was not in the mood to laugh. So I picked him up, hugged him, and pleaded with him to never do that to me again.

I was "raised in the church." My father was a deacon, and began one of the first bus ministries in the Churches of Christ. We went to church everytime the doors were open, I was baptized at the scriptural age of twelve, and did everything else a good Christian boy should do. I've always known what it was like to be a Christian. But it has taken me years to realize that, as the song "Amazing Grace" says, "I once was lost..."

I admit that I am envious of those who came to know Christ later in life. Those who were steeped in sin, living a life that was taking them on a direct flight to Hell. Maybe it's someone who was battling an addiction; someone that was a professed Atheist; or someone indulging in a lifestyle of self-gratification. Whatever the case, I admire those who did an about-face to follow the Lord. They are the ones that seem to be so passionate about their salvation...while I struggle with realizing that "I once was lost!" They share their faith because they can't bear to think of someone else being lost...while I listen to dogmatic arguments rattle inside my head.

I thought Elijah was lost...and with every ounce of my being I was going to find him. Yet I'm surrounded by those who are lost...and how diligently am I searching for them?