She was two years old. And I lost her.
She was there one minute and the next she was gone.
I searched the house, calling out my daughter’s name, searching from room to room and I couldn’t find her. It had been a whole 5 minutes when I grabbed my phone and with shaking fingers, called my husband. He was at work and couldn’t help me, but he could be with me while I searched.
I looked in closets, under beds, all the while calling her name, searching frantically with my eyes, then I was running. Our house was small and I covered it in minutes. I was about to look in the garage when I saw the back sliding glass door–cracked open, just big enough for her to squeeze through.
I pushed it open, with my husband calming and hushing me on the other end of the phone. I ran to the backyard and checked the gate. Locked. I called out her name and searched the massive yard.
I couldn’t find my little girl.
It had been 10 minutes. Ten lost minutes that felt like ten years. My husband was now rushing home and I was crying hard.
The dog pen was the last place to search. It was sectioned off at the back of the yard. I ran in that direction, calling her name and that’s when I saw the bright pink tennis shoes poking out from inside the dog house.
I screamed her name and she stuck her head out and said in her chubby voice, “Hi Momma. I hiding.”
I ran to her scooped her up and cried in her tangled curls. I didn’t scold or scream. I didn’t lecture. I listened to her even breathing and my choked sobs.
I found her. I found her. I found her.
Nothing else mattered in the world. She was safe. She was in my arms. Everything would be okay.
In the past, Christmas has been about me looking for Jesus…trying to find Him in the hectic holiday and busy season. It is me frantically searching, trying to focus on His face in the middle of so many distractions.
Christmas has been about me looking for Him. It’s been the pressure–and often guilt– of counting down Advent. I’ve been disappointed in my distracted looking and counting and waiting for Him.
But for me this year, Christmas isn’t about me looking for Jesus. It’s about Him looking for me.
It’s the mom looking for a lost child kind of searching. God will do anything to find us.
As a matter of fact, He did. He sent Jesus.
And He never stops looking for us. He is searching and running hard after us–not because He doesn’t know where we are, but because He does. He is pursuing us. Chasing us. He is relentless as he calls out, “Where are you?”
He is like a young momma searching for his lost daughter. Desperate. Relentless.
Oh, He knows where we are. But He calls out anyway. He wants us to know He is always looking for us.
He will do anything to find us.
He will not give up.
And when we find each other, everything will be okay.
This is Christmas to me.
Merry Christmas, friends. May you find what you’re looking for this season. And may He find you.