God Is Never Lost

My youngest child is what we call an escape artist. Joey is eight and has Down syndrome. He also has limited impulse control and virtually no fear of strangers, wandering away from his parents (or teachers or other caretakers). Add to that a limited vocabulary and difficulty answering questions like “What’s your name?” or “Who are your parents?” or even “What is your phone number?” and you have the recipe for a mama-sized heart attack.

The moments we have lost him are permanently etched in my mind: the time we scoured the neighborhood for him, only to find him sitting in his car seat in our van because he heard someone mention ice cream; the time he was playing in our backyard with adult supervision and managed to run away and let himself into a neighbor’s house; the morning I was teaching Vacation Bible School when a clearly panicked-but-trying-to-remain-calm childcare worker popped into my room to ask if I had picked up Joey because they just realized they hadn’t seen him in a while; or the moment just a few months ago when he disappeared into a crowd of hundreds at our local art museum.

Fortunately, each of those stories has a happy ending. Each time he was found unharmed, and each time he had a big smile on his face, completely unaware of the alarm and chaos he caused. Still, the memories are hardly pleasant. Just typing those examples makes my stomach turn.

Every time we lose Joey (or more accurately, every time we find Joey and my heart has time to slow back into a somewhat normal rhythm), I think of Mary and Joseph losing young Jesus in Jerusalem (Luke 2:41–51). The realization that I haven’t seen Joey in a few minutes pales in comparison to the moment they discovered Jesus wasn’t with their group after a day’s journey. Then they had to walk (let’s be honest, run) back to Jerusalem, where they spent three days frantically tearing the city apart before finding their boy. Three days. Three days!

As if that weren’t enough, they didn’t just lose their son; they lost the Messiah! The one announced to them by angels. The one placed in Mary’s womb by God himself while she was still a virgin. How did she find the strength and presence of mind to keep searching, to keep hoping?

Somehow, Mary and Joseph persevered, and their determination paid off. Jesus sat in the temple, “listening to [the teachers] and asking them questions” (verse 46 ESV). Honestly, I laugh a little every time I read verse 48: “And when his parents saw him, they were astonished. And his mother said to him, ‘Son, why have you treated us so? Behold, your father and I have been searching for you in great distress’” (ESV).

Either Mary had much stronger self-control than I do or Luke didn’t have the writer’s flair to fully capture the drama of that moment. I’m thinking it should read a little more like this: “And when his parents saw him, Mary dropped to her knees. Her body shook as she simultaneously sobbed and howled with laughter. Suddenly she glared at her son and shrieked, ‘What were you thinking? Do you have any idea of the heart attack you have given me for the past three days? How could you do this to me? You are grounded for the rest of your life!’ Then she broke down into tears and called out, ‘Oh my sweet baby! Come here!’ She hugged him so hard his face turned purple, then she spanked him and warned him to never scare her like that again. Then she cried as she apologized for getting mad and hugged him some more.”

Yes, I’d say that sounds a little more realistic. Losing a child is terrifying. Mary lost her son and her Messiah. Did she feel hopeless? Simultaneously adrenaline-charged and emotionally exhausted? Like the ground had given way beneath her feet?

I know the fear when a child is missing. I also know the emptiness of thinking God is lost to me. Where are you, Lord? I have cried out in a panic. I keep calling and calling for you! Why aren’t you answering? Where have you gone?

When Joey disappeared during Vacation Bible School, we found him locked in a classroom, happily emptying the cabinets of all their craft supplies. He smiled sweetly, happy to see me but confused to see me so emotional. After all, he knew exactly where he was the whole time. Similarly, when Mary and Joseph find Jesus, he almost seems to be surprised by their distress. “He said to them, ‘Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?’” (Luke 2:49 ESV) As far as Jesus was concerned, he wasn’t lost—he was right where he needed to be. His parents were the ones not in the right place.

So it is with God. He is never lost. He is never gone. He is always right where he’s supposed to be, patiently waiting for us to join him. He might not be where we want to find him—waiting with easy answers and happy endings. But if we know where to look—in his Word, in wise counsel from his people, in time spent in prayer—we will find him every time.

“You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:13 ESV)

Katy Epling is a writer, speaker, and “masterpiece in progress” (Ephesians 2:10) from Akron, Ohio. She and her husband Jon have three beautiful children who provide her with multitudes of material—both dramatic and comedic. Learn more about her heart and ministry at katyepling.com.

Photograph © Vladislav Muslakov, used with permission