Lost and Found

lostandfoundWhat does it look like to offer hope in another person’s life? Hope that their physical needs will be met? Hope that their emotional and social needs could be met? Hope that something deep, or spiritual,can be connected to and seen?

I have learned to see light where most just see darkness. I have embraced life in a purposeful way by embracing the fact that beauty and life can come out of brokenness and loss. It seems to me that many of us live our lives in the lost and found. You know that place—the one that every school, organization, church, businesses and even our homes might have. A place where something important has been lost and cries out to be found, but just sits there waiting.

Somewhere along the way many in society have discovered that we don’t fit the mold of those around us. We strive to fit, to belong, to be allowed to be real, or honest, in all of our “oddness”. This realization happened at a very young age in my life. I was about nine years old, living among the Native Americans in Alaska. I often felt a sense of belonging with “where” I lived, but not so with “whom” I lived. This lost feeling continued on in my life’s journey as we moved back to the East Coast and I felt even more alone as I realized I fit even less with the fast-moving, noisy, stress-laden world I was thrust into. As I reflect back on those years, I realize in all the schools I attended, in all the cities I lived, the common theme was most of the other kids I was around didn’t feel they belonged. They were searching for purpose—to be seen and loved. They were searching for their identity!

This point has hit very close to my heart over the past month. A good friend passed on an incredible series of books from S.J. Kincaid which one of my sons and I have been reading. In this trilogy the author has built her fictional skeleton upon one young man who goes from a “nothing” to becoming unstoppable, both in mental and physical strength. But, what happens when the “unstoppable” is taken away. Is he left with being the worthless young man in his mind? Or can he build upon the relationships and emotional stability that has been developed along with the strength.

This has become pertinent as it has brought up some very hard, but real conversations in my own heart, and with my son. These discussions have taken us to a crossroads; you know the one that takes place in our lives where there is excitement and freedom that comes with getting older, but also a sense of fear and being overwhelmed in having to discover who we are.

These issues of finding the lost and offering hope are the foundation upon which we build every conversation we have with dads. These lost souls are too often in the shadows in desperate need of being seen and given the opportunity and pathway to move beyond their current circumstances. One of Glass Hearts’ principles is to look beyond the physical, and our own well-developed stereotypes, and focus on the real person sitting before us. Finding our purpose in the hope that can come with taking the time to see the unique gifts and joy this dad can bring to his child and to his world.

I challenge you to look within your own world for those on the “fringe” (like a young dad) and invite them into friendship—you might find yourself amazed that in helping them to be found, or seen, will bring an area in your own life to the surface that desires to be watered by friendship and love!