Can Get Lost

You can get lost in the desert. Wander far when you are thirsty. Rocks begin to look the same. And all that sand? Endless. Dry, heaped upon heap. And you begin to wonder: “Will I survive? This?”, where the winds blow, filling your mouth with grit. Where silence reigns with the coyotes, howling in the distance. This. Where you seem to walk alone, aimless. Where your heart has been sucked dry and really, you're so very thirsty.
You were so sure that you could find your way.
Once.
Sure, that water, that the green of life, was just over the next rise, that you would find it. You would. Wouldn't you?
But that was all so long ago. Days and weeks and years. Back at a time when you knew so many things. Back when you felt chock-full of self and knowledge and hope. Back when you just knew where to find all the answers.
Now... You've roved far and you recognize that you know nothing. Nothing at all. You know for certain, that you aren't certain at all. Except that you have roamed, far, in this desert. And you are thirsty.
Once, great throngs beckoned, determined to help you on your way. They bellowed, loud, “Pride is the way!”, while others cried, “Follow what you want!”. And you, you were determined to follow the one yelling, “I'm in charge!”. That was your favorite of them all.
Then, as you journeyed on, you began to turn your back to all their pandering and that seems to be the very time that you began to lose your way. You wondered, when death knocked upon your door, how their words could be true. When illness and loss, shame and poverty followed close behind, that is when you knew, they had been speaking lies. Only empty lies.
And so you've rambled, seeking to find your way. And you've grown thirsty, so thirsty, until now, you are like some grape that's been left to shrivel in the sun.
What you didn't know, didn't even recognize, was that you were not alone. These long years of meandering, the parchedness of your soul, did not go unheeded. You have been followed, faithfully. You have been hemmed in, behind and before, unaware, of something more.
Someone, more.
And He has been waiting.
For you.
Longing.
For you. To cease your seeking, and your endless determination to find your own way.
So, when at last, you stumble upon your face, too faint of heart, too weak of limb to rise once more, to search again, He comes and for the first time you recognize, that you have been safely held while He waited, with dying love, for you to seek, Him.
The grace of His arms, wrapped tight about you, and the echoes of His heart tapping out His love song, endless, these are what lead you to all that you've been seeking. Acceptance. Belonging. Hope. Even life itself.
You roam no more. You are home; your thirst satisfied.