Lost?

Been thinking a bit about the Christian life. (Don’t worry, nothing deep).

Feels like holding a map.  On it, there are two red dots marked ‘A’ and ‘B’.

‘B’ is where I’m headed.  The end point.  The destination. I’m not sure what it looks like, but I know I want to get there. Maybe it’s ‘Godliness’.  (That’s nice but – erm, not hugely inspiring). Maybe it’s the ‘Victorious Christian Life’.  Nope, that’s worse. And I’m not sure it even exists – at least, not in the cartoon form I imagine. No, ‘B’ is something more than a sermon exhortation.  ‘B’ is warm and sheltered. ‘B’ is a  banquet, ringing with laughter. ‘B’ is the sight of my native shore after years of exile; the blue smoke of home.  ‘B’ is ‘there’ – and more than anything, it’s where I want to be.

But I’m not.   I’m at ‘A’.

And ‘A’ is not on any path I can spot. ‘A’ feels like it’s the product of a million wrong turnings. A is Monday. Overwhelmed and under-resourced.

‘A’ is a Christian who hasn’t packed for the journey. ‘A’ is scared and out of her depth.  ‘A’ is marshy and boggy and she can’t even see the sky, let alone where she’s headed.

I look again at the map. How on earth do I move from ‘here’ to ‘there’?

It feels impossible. I’ve never been able to read maps – and this is a doozy. I need someone to explain it. But there’s no-one around: they’re already at ‘B’ or further down the path.  They’re with Jesus, right? After all, that’s His home and where He belongs – with the ones who’s already made it.

…

But Jesus is here.

Here, with me – at ‘A’.  In the bog and in the mess.

Jesus is encouraging me and binding up my feet when they’re sore from travelling. He’s carrying me when I’m too tired to walk. Jesus will never, ever leave me. Jesus is so determined to bring me home He’s come out to get me.  And He won’t go back without taking me with Him.