Bewilderness

It was the end of a November day that had started well before dawn, frosty and moon-shadowed. I was a teen boy outdoors in the Appalachian forests and fields with my father, uncle, and one of their buddies. Now, several hours later, darkness was settling back in. And I was lost. I knew the woods well but had crossed the wrong ridge, and nothing looked familiar. A dog barked in a distant hollow below. Truck tires crunched on a gravel road far away. The woods were peaceful, but I was getting a little panicked. I backtracked, crossed the correct ridge, and returned to safety. Once I recognized the familiar, I settled down and could navigate the right path.

Life is like this. There are a lot of uncertainties. Today, some in my family are facing employment questions. Others are dealing with health issues. Add to these the crosswinds in society. It's unsettling.

Bewildering events remind me to practice the primary spiritual discipline of finding Jesus. Throughout the Gospel narratives, Jesus slips away from people's notice. His parents lost track of him when he stayed behind in the synagogue. Jesus escaped crowds who wanted to make him king or to find a place of solitude with the Father. Outside his tomb, he appeared as a gardener. On the way to Emmaus, he looked like an uninformed traveler. He may even be disguised as the poor, marginalized, hungry, thirsty, or unsheltered. To feel secure and properly oriented, I need to find him. That's always my first task when I am in the wilderness. He might calm the tempest. But even if the storms continue to rage, he will be a secure foundation, provided I remain. Jesus never really leaves. He never forsakes. He's probably looking for me, too. So, where is Jesus?