My definition of being lost is not knowing how you got where you are, and how to get to where you want to be. That is where I found myself over ten years ago –lost. Oh, I knew that I was making some wrong and some bad turns, so, I can’t completely say that I didn’t know how I got where I was. But, I’m the victim here, so I don’t have to take responsibility for my part in this, yet.
Just to remind you, or if you are just catching up, these are the circumstances that I am speaking of. In August, 2004, I gave up on trying to keep my business open any longer after a 14 year -successful run. The man whom I was married to walked out two months later (mmm, I wonder if there was a connection). Oh, yes, and I lost my dad in that in-between month. Over the next 16 months, I faced a foreclosure (make that two), and my car being repossessed. In essence, I went from being a wife, daughter, well-known business owner, real estate owner, to a single, orphaned, homeless, unemployed – what? I didn’t know. Discovery.
One of the things they say about being lost is that the chances of being found are better if you stay put where you are. God must have come up with that saying, though I can’t find it in the Bible, but that is just what He had me to do. And I know it had to be Him because for years my prayer was for Him to order my steps. But He wasn’t giving me any instructions or directions.
So, day after day, I was lost and stuck. My daily routine was to get up, do those daily things that we all do and then what? I had been self-employed for fourteen years and employed by the government for fourteen years before that, and guess what? The rules for job hunting had changed. It was all computerized, so I couldn’t even go out and knock on doors to look for a job. And to make matters worse, I didn’t have an employment reference for fourteen years, except myself. For all anybody knew, I had been serving time at Attica for the last fourteen years.
So, what does one do when it seems there is nothing to do? My daily routine was to sit in the corner in my white Queen Anne’s chair; a cup of tea, my Bible and praise music. My favorite daily scripture during those days was Psalm 5, where I asked God to hear my voice every morning. The Father also had me to spend more time than I cared to in Matthew 5, about praying for those who despitefully use you. Man was that hard, but I kept at it. I enjoyed reading Romans 12:19, where God told me that vengeance was His and that He would repay. That meant that He was on my side, and “woe” was gonna be on somebody, and I liked that part.
Some of those scriptures that I had preached and taught, I now had to put to the test. Would He really “supply all my needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus”? Was He really going to add all the things that I needed, if I “seek first His kingdom and His righteousness”? There was so much that I had to learn. Over the next year while I sat and waited, and waited and cried, and cried and prayed, the answers would come.