“For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost.” Matthew 18:11
I am now, in every sense of the word, what I always have been and most likely, what I always will be.
As a mission-minded toddler, I climbed over the fence and walked several blocks to the local drugstore on my first shopping trip for, what else but candy?; a single piece for every single family member. Fortunately a benevolent customer in a light colored dress asked me where I lived and took me home. Once while with my mother at the old Montgomery Ward I discovered ladies’ hats and promptly tried on one after another, this time returned to my more-than-likely frazzled parent by a friendly policeman with a Hershey bar.
I was in every sense of the word, like Rock ‘N Roll’s Dion, a wanderer;
and as Geico might have said of me then…
“when you’re Anne Marie, you wander; it’s what you do!”
I still wander…
into yesterdays long gone,
minefields long impotent.
Can I get a witness?
Rabbit trails beckon, and sentiment whispers, carries me further, deeper;
blurring lines between emotion and logic, wedging me tightly
between whys and why-nots
what-ifs, and how-comes.
And I still wander…
And my Heavenly Father still rescues,
not necessarily through ladies dressed in white or officers with chocolate bars.
When rabbit trails beckon, He beckons more.
Wandering, like rabbit trails, must be part of the equation that equals human; and if you’re anything like me, it’s only a matter of time before history repeats itself.
Isn’t it a wonder that the One who holds the stars in the sky, knows us by name?
Isn’t it a wonder that the One who created the Heavens and the Earth, knows the number of hairs on our heads?
Isn’t it a wonder, that when we wander He knows where we are
and calls us back…