recalibrate

Do you remember when Windows OS was still a new thing and the term "WYSIWYG" was the cool tech-speak? If you don't, it's the acronym for "What You See Is What You Get" and was relevant to the new computerized desktop publishing environments - what you see on the screen is what you get from the printer. For better or worse, I've often seen myself as a WYSIWYG kinda guy... I'm not naturally skilled at hiding things, like my emotions, but I like to think I'm learning more every day (believe it or not).

So, in that vein of WYSIWYG-ness, I wanted to share a journal entry with you that I stumbled upon the other day, read to Christie last night and may share on Sunday morning (so don't steal my thunder just yet).

Here's the entry:

I'm in a season - and have felt it for several weeks - where I sense rushing waters behind me and I'm about to either shred some serious waves or get pummeled under its crashing power... So, I find myself doing some serious soul-searching, or maybe better said, some soul-recalibrating. The thing about recalibrating is that recalibrating doesn't actually change the machine or its original function; recalibrating just makes the necessary adjustments to keep the machine effective and efficient in its original intent and purpose. I'm living my dream and I'm set on my mission, but neither are fully realized yet. So, I recalibrate. I must adjust myself to the things God has revealed to me, to the circumstances in which He has placed me and to what I sense Him impressing on my heart. I'm still me and His Truth and purpose (in me) hasn't changed... I'm just continuing to dial it in... and I don't want to miss this opportunity or His blessing.

Can you relate?

getting perspective on the "lost"

I was recently reminded of a time a few years back... Camille was about 6 and we were in Walmart. I was looking for something specific - don't remember what - and was having a hard time finding it. Camille was switching back and forth between holding my hand and looking at things around us. I kept looking, occasionally reminding Camille to stay with me... then, one of the times I glanced back, she was gone. GONE!

I looked around... no Camille. I went to the other side of the isle... no Camille. She was just there FIVE SECONDS AGO!

It is absolutely unbelievable the number of scenarios that can run through a parent's mind in a matter of seconds. Between thoughts of her being abducted and seeing her terrified face, and visions of me being brutally and slowly tortured by Christie, I was a wreck... and then it got worse as I realized I was "one of those parents" who loses his kid in WALMART! (Are you kidding me?!?)

Then, after what couldn't have been more than 20 seconds - though it seemed like 20 lifetimes - I heard, "Would the parent of Camille LaRue please come to dressing rooms."

I ran to the dressing rooms, scooped her up and squeezed that little body of hers... I can't begin to explain the overwhelming sense of joy knowing she was safe, no longer lost and alone. I could almost feel her fear fade as she whimpered and said, "I'm sorry, daddy. I know I shouldn't have walked away."

I kept her close the rest of the day and scratched her back a little longer when I tucked her into bed. I thought she was lost, gone... but she wasn't, and I was (and will forever be) so thankful.

Though I NEVER want to relive that experience again, my soul is humbled to have caught a glimpse of how our heavenly Father must feel when he "loses" his children and how much his heart rejoices when even just one is found.

God is not obsessed with the lost...
no, the Father of all creation is obsessed with his children.