Celebrate life


Wednesday 11 January 2012

lost

I gave myself a fright the other day.

I went out running on a new route I hadn't tried before.

I got lost. Not LOST lost. But definitely disorientated lost.

And I ended up running along a busy main road, with lorries and buses screeching past close by. Not what I'd intended. And a long way from home.



I was so cross with myself for making such a silly mistake, for not paying enough attention, for getting it wrong.

I doled out a severe talking-to.

And when you're running there's plenty of time to beat yourself up.

I felt small. And not in a good way. I felt vulnerable. And there are few things I recoil from more than feeling vulnerable. I felt pretty stupid. I wanted to cry. I prayed a lot.

Here's the bridge I was supposed to be running over (on a good day):



It's 250 feet high, and the only way to get to it from down on the busy road was by going up. A lot.

I made it home, eventually. I cried then.

2 comments:

  1. Oh, my! That does sound scary. But it is somewhat of a metaphor for life, isn't it? Because we are His, we aren't really ever truly lost, but we certainly feel it at times. And sometimes we beat ourselves up. But He doesn't want us to... we are His people, and the sheep of His pasture, and He never beats His sheep...

    so glad you made it home, safely.

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  2. just stopping by again to thank you for your kind and empathetic comment on my recent "lament," and to thank you for your prayers...

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