Lost and Found

At our home, we don't have cable or satellite TV. We don't even have an antenna. That decision partially started out as an "accident", but it has ended up a choice. When we were first married, we had two houses - the farm Mark was renting from his parents in Iowa and the one I had built in Illinois. The girls and I moved to Iowa with Mark and Austin until Mark could find a job closer to our home in Illinois. Before my divorce, I watched a lot of television. We had four in the house, and many times they were all on at one time so that I could walk from room to room without missing things. I often found it a way of escape from the trials of a difficult marriage. It was similar to attempting to nourish myself with mostly junk food or like putting electrical tape over the low oil warning light in my car. It was a brief escape, but probably, in many ways, kept us lulled into apathy about the state of our marriage. Financially, things were more tight when Brett left. I started working again, which I hadn't done in a few years, and I decided it that we weren't home enough to justify paying a bill for TV.

Anyway, that was the first season of my life minus TV, and I have enjoyed every season since then. I have spent more time with my children. I have become more sensitive to the things I once missed. I have become more likely to try to confront the things that make me miserable, and I have become less miserable.

We still have DVD's, and we rent movies from Netflix sometimes though. It is easier to enjoy TV but still keep it in balance that way. Lately, we started getting the TV series LOST from Netflix. We are enjoying watching it. If you've not seen it, it's about some people who, as the result of a plane crash, have become stranded on what they thought was a deserted tropical island. We are still only in the first season, but the crash victims are beginning to find out that they are not alone on the island after all, and that there are some other "people" who seem to be (at least at this point) soulless. They have empty eyes and hollow speech. Their emotions are lacking.

This got me thinking, as I was headed to bed one night, of all the movies I've seen in my life, the scary ones are often about the soulless: the vampire, the undead zombie, the "pod people"/alien replacements of real humanity. These are the ones who are missing a portion of themselves - the invisible portion. This is, apparently, the worst thing that we can imagine - losing our own lives is bad, but losing the invisible part of ourselves is so much worse. The soul - our mind, will, and emotions - is the invisible portion of ourselves that makes us distinct as humans - different from the animals. Our soul is the invisible part of us that makes us capable of having a relationship with our Creator and with the rest of His creation. It was a gift from that same Creator... not only to us but to Himself. To create something that has the ability to commune with oneself and others (like Geppetto and Pinocchio) is within the heart of the artist and reflects our Father's heart. He has longed for a relationship with us. Like Pinocchio, we don't understand our Creator's desire and, as a result, we often hurt Him. We wander on our own way, looking for the more that we know is out there somewhere, but filling ourselves with all the junk food we can find along the way instead... not realizing that it is ultimately lulling us into a position of complacency that could lead to the very thing we fear the most - losing our souls. We are robbing ourselves of the opportunity to become real.

When you have seen a loved one lying in wake at a funeral or visitation... what's missing? Their physical body is still there, but the most important part is obviously gone. What has gone away? In Matthew 10:28 - 31, Jesus says, ²⁸"Do not fear those who kill the body but are unable to kill the soul; but rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. ²⁹"Are not two sparrows sold for a cent? And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. ³⁰"But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. ³¹"So do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows."

It's the soul we fear losing... the part that is actually necessary for living. If we had just descended from animals, we would have no need for abstract thought, a complex will, or certainly any emotions beyond fear. The simplest sets have survived the ages without the ability to reason or feel. However, we have all of these - and more. Obviously, the physical body isn't what's necessary for living, because it is still present - even in the dead. The part that many try to deny even exists... that's the part that we most fear losing. If the physical body were able to go on living without mind, will, and emotions - the ability to commune with humanity and Creator... no sympathy, no heart... that is lost.

Back to my first season without TV: My spiritual walk changed completely at that point. I had nothing to do at night anymore. I had a few books... a Bible, which took up permanent residence on my "husband's" side of the bed. I soaked it in. I copied entire chapters word-for-word, by hand, taking extra notes. I figured that the purpose of God's Word was to 1) teach me about who He was, 2) teach me about my identity as a follower of Him, and 3) teach me how to live my life. I wanted to learn these things. So I began to read for hours each night - classifying each verse into one of 3 categories: God is..., I am..., and Admonitions. I have 5 subject notebooks full of those copied chapters and notes and a mind full of those sweet memories... nights spent face-down on my floor - looking for something I had already thought I had found. Knowledge is not being found. In fact, sometimes it ends up in feeling more lost. Truth is the only way to be found. The winner of the World Geography Bowl could be just as lost - anywhere in the world - as you or I... without a map of where he is. He has all kinds of knowledge, but without the truth of where he is and how to get somewhere else, he is just as lost as you or I.

Like Pinocchio, you and I were made for a purpose. The Artist wants a relationship. Turning toward Him is where we find our identity, and the LOST become FOUND.