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I’m Not Lost Just Because You Can’t Find Me: Meditations on Single Life (#Shareworthy ’17)

I was in my sermon notes notebook looking for what a minister said about Psalms 23 for my upcoming book (!!) when I came across the above phrase written on a page. It was a note to myself, to remind myself of something that popped into my mind during a sermon:

I’m not lost just because you can’t find me.

The sermon, and the thought, will turn a year old less than a week after my new book is set to be released (and let’s pray HARD I make that deadline!).I was in the midst of a season of unwelcome change when my minister preached “Our Joy Button is Prayer.” He taught about joy and worry being diametrically opposed, and how joy was contingent upon our relationship with God. “The one consistent element of my life is what God is doing,” he said. And in the midst of this convicting and refining sermon, I wrote this sentence.

Who was speaking? Was it me? If so, who was I talking to? Was it God? Who wasn’t lost and who was unable to find someone they were looking for?

There are other notes to myself that define what I was thinking. I’m choosing not to share them, but I am sharing what it all means to me now as a “happily single” woman.

This can’t be God. The bible says if you look for God you will find him.

You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. Jer. 29:13

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” Matt. 7:7

If I were looking for God, I would find Him. God is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him. I was in relationship with God and seeking him like I hadn’t before at the time, so that wasn’t it.

It was me. Below is a continuation of the thought, where I thought I meant to go.


I’m not lost just because you can’t find me. I was lost, for a while, but now I’m not. I don’t know who you are or your motive for looking at this point in your life, but I know how you might feel. Maybe you’ve even thought you found me but all you found was you were mistaken. It’s like you saw a glimpse of her and thought she was me, but when you tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around, a stranger’s face stared blankly up at you, her brow furrowed in inquiry.

Maybe you’ve looked everywhere I could logically be–conferences, seminars, fellowships, crusades. Perhaps you peeked into the ladies’ day at your church or volunteered to scoop potatoes onto Styrofoam plates hoping to find me among the masses in coral, yellow or chartreuse. Maybe you made the trek down memory lane thinking maybe you missed me hanging in the friend zone sipping sugary punch, watching the fellowship around me and searching for a seat.

I must admit I “hung out”, hung in, and held on to the bitter end hoping you would see me. I thought I saw you a time or two. I chased that poor man for miles before I realized he wasn’t you. Wasn’t that a silly thing to do? I know how this works: you find me. I don’t find you.

I can confess I have stood around waving my arms, begging to be found, to no avail. You’ll get here when you get here. I’ll be here when you get here, if I don’t lose my grip on patience.

I promise I’m not lost just because you can’t find me. Maybe I’m so well hidden you haven’t found me yet. You keep staring in my vicinity because you know something’s there, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Or maybe you’re looking in the wrong place. You see, for maybe the first time ever, I’m where God put me. I’m balanced precariously, trying hard not to fall off the shelf until you find me. I’m not running after someone who looks like they could be you from behind. I’m not fighting for a spot in the window display so you can see me from the street. I’m not hiding my light under a bushel so it doesn’t overwhelm you. I’m not watching the clock waiting for your knock on the door. I’m doing what God asked me to do.

I want to be surprised to see you. When Jesus says “have you met him?” I want to shake my head, dazed my Father managed to amaze me again, like when he put death under my brother’s feet and put victory perpetually on repeat. I want to shake your hand and smile at you and for you to sigh because you recognize my smile too. I almost can’t wait to see how well you relate to the feeling you were never going to find me.

I’m not lost just because you can’t find me. I’m not stealing time with someone else’s Adam or hiding from the hottest part of the flame. I’m with the one who loved me and called me by name. I’m gleaning in a field where I might find favor. I’m drawing water where I might draw the eye of your Father’s servant sent to find me.

I promise you I’m not lost just because you can’t find me. For once, I think I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

It’s rough, unpolished and unfinished, but so am I. I felt it was a thought I should share in case some other woman thought she was lost because no man has found her yet. Maybe you’re not lost. You can still be a wife, a good thing, while you’re hidden, sis. You still have worth and value. Just because you’re single doesn’t mean you’re doing this life thing wrong. It may mean you’re doing it exactly right.



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