The Sunday morning routine began. I woke the children, like every other Sunday. Shower, dress, a quick breakfast and then we are off to Sunday school. The two older children, 11 year old Mikayla and 7 year old Joshua, head off to their respective classes as usual. I loosed 3 year old Jeremiah from his car seat harness. He was still my baby! He would always be the baby, for the next five months anyway. The new baby would be due in August. It was mid March in North Carolina and still a bit cool in the mornings. I wrangled Jeremiah in long enough to remove his heavy outer coat and followed my rowdy little guy into the church. I watched as this self-proclaimed super hero entered the narrow staircase that lead to the second floor of our small church. Once he bounded up the steps and reached the second floor landing he enthusiastically departed around the corner and down the hall to the preschoolers classroom that he knew well. Once I was comfortable that my children had made it to their classes I quickly took my seat in the main sanctuary for the adult class. I felt satisfied that at least for now my work was complete. I was actually on time. I could now continue with church as usual. I was unaware that this ordinary day held events that would be etched in my mind and heart forever!I dutifully began documenting the adult attendance and marking it in the class registry. I never really understood the purpose of taking attendance for Sunday school classes. I secretly wondered if the truancy officers would cart us off if we failed to show on too many occasions. Would they jail us or just pose a hefty fine? This random, albeit noteworthy, thought process was interrupted by movement in my left peripheral vision. As I turned, the Sunday School director quietly entered the room. She attempted to mouth something to me, but I just could not make out what she was trying to say. After several futile attempts at communication between us I asked my wonderful husband to go see what the heck was so important! I continued to take attendance as Scott and the director made their exit from the sanctuary back into the Sunday school area of the building.
I estimate that 5 to 10 minutes had passed and then I saw the same movement in my left peripheral vision as before. This time it was not the Sunday School director, but my husband. He attempted the same ill-fated form of communication as the director. Finally he made his way to my side and quietly whispered in my ear that I needed to follow him because they could not find Jeremiah. As I followed he explained that Jeremiah's teacher had not been able to make it to church that morning and the director went to get the kids from her class to distribute them through the classes that did have teachers. There were only 2 kids in the preschool class so it would be an easy task. Did I mention it was a small church? I immediately headed to the narrow staircase that I had watched my little super hero confidently embark upon just a few minutes before. Scott gently took my arm and informed me that he had already checked the whole church and Jeremiah was no where to be found. I would like to interject here that I was employed at the local county 911 center for many years. I was fully aware of the potential situations involved with a child who was missing. Everyone of these horrible scenarios instantly invaded my thoughts! I was overwhelmed with more fear than any human should ever endure. Panic permeated every fiber of my being. Where could he possibly be! I immediately ran through the church and out the front door. I began SCREAMING his name and intently listening for his voice. I just wanted to hear his voice. Where was he? Did he wonder where I was? Was he scared? Was he hurt or trapped in something? Was he with a stranger?!!! GOD NO !!!!
With complete and utter disregard for what anyone thought I began to check under cars in the parking lot. I did not care if I woke sleeping families or interrupted the church services. I wailed his name and listened for the faintest sounds. I inspected drainage culverts and vehicles. Nothing! Nothing!
The church was situated in the middle of a residential area of the city. It was known as an undesirable area with lots of drugs and illegal activities. It was the perfect place for ministry, but not the perfect place for a missing child! What next! My legs were numb and I was not sure that they were moving at all. The next thing I was aware of was knocking on the doors of the homes near the church. The first door was directly across from the church. It was a mobile home that had been the scene of an overdose death earlier that year. The new tenant was a strange fellow with a very dark demeanor. I violently rapped on the side door, all the while screaming my baby's name. Had there been the faintest promising sound from inside I would have torn the door off the hinges. I was ready to storm in if needed. The man assured me that he had not seen my son. I was watching his face for any sign that he may not be telling the truth. I overtly looked around him into the messy room for any sign! GOD JUST SHOW ME A SIGN WHERE MY BABY IS! I HAVE TO FIND HIM! I AM DESPERATE!!
I had lost all track of time and space. I could not feel my skin. No thought in my mind could be conveyed. My eyes were wild with fearful determination. My face contorted into an unfamiliar shape. I had lost all sense of myself. But I was also unaware of anyone else. My ears could interpret no discernible sound....... Had it only been minutes? It had been forever! My people pleasing nature had given way to raw despair! All of my pride evaporated with the fervor of my need. I was a wild woman on a mission! No law, no rule, no person - would keep me from finding my child!
Time was lost to me. I could hear a faint familiar sound in the distance. It was a comforting sound, but not the one I was seeking. Then I heard it more clearly. Finally, I realized it was my husband calling my name. He called gently at first and then firmly. He held out his loving hand to me, but he was too far away for me to take it. As I looked around I found myself standing on the yellow line of the roadway. It was a precarious location in a curve and at the bottom of a small hill. I began to feel the rain on my skin. My eyes were black holes covered in smeared mascara. My makeup was streaked by rivers of tears. It was now being washed away completely by the rain. My church shoes were covered in red mud I must have obliviously trudged through while inspecting drainage culverts and vehicles in the parking lot. I tried to interpret the words my husband smoothly spoke in my direction. Could it really be true? Had my beautiful child been found safe? I was then aware of another strange sound that saturated the air around me. What was it? I slowly became cognizant of its source. Me! I was still screaming! I initiated the task of gaining control of myself. I tried to process that he was OK. I just wanted to hold him, touch him, hear him. I needed to be in his presence. The void would remain until I was reunited with the precious object of my despair!
In that moment of anguish I was absorbed with my plight. I was utterly immersed in my mission! I would have broken any law necessary to complete the task at hand!
My little super hero had been hiding under a table in his classroom. He must have been in stealth mode because he eluded multiple people who inspected the church to find him. I embraced him tightly and kissed his little face more than he would have liked. The situation was resolved relatively quickly, but the effects have been long-lasting.
I am now many years out from this dramatic event in my life. If I allow myself I can still recall the raw emotions as if it were happening afresh. This was a paradigm of true desperation in the natural realm. The principles that it holds are noteworthy.
Are we desperate for the presence of God? Do we really know what desperate looks like? Better yet, do we care what it looks like? If we still care was it looks like then maybe we are not truly desperate. Raw desperation is reckless abandon. Truly desperate people are oblivious to the rules imposed by religious doctrine and dogmas. They know that "church as usual" just won't get them where they have to be.
King David stripped off all of the garments that identified him as King. He danced fervently before the ark of the covenant. David knew what it was like without God's presence. He had reckless abandon for the office he held and for the rules that society placed on the King. David had no regard for his dignity. He delighted in the return of the presence of God to His people. David did not have concern for the thoughts of others. This included his spouse. His wife was King Saul's daughter. She was well aware of how the King should act. The bible says that she despised David in her heart for his actions. David did what needed to be done because his desire was for the presence of God above everything else.
My prayer is that I am overcome with the void that is in me. I want to have reckless abandon for the rules of religion. I want to be blind to myself and how I appear to others. I want to be totally consumed with the search of Him and His presence until I can see and touch His face. The void will never be filled by anything other than Him!
