“Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.” Luke 15:4-7
This is one of my favorite passages in the Bible. It’s one many if not all of us have read, given Young Life Club talks on and shared with kids one-on-one. But recently it’s begun to take on an even more practical meaning for me.
I get to lead a ministry for kids who are or have formerly been homeless. They all live far below the poverty line, which means technology is spotty, at best, so when our current pandemic hit, our ministry initially all but disappeared. I was at a loss. I’d watch friends post about their Zoom clubs or campaigners with tears in my eyes, feeling like we’d lost all of our kids, and truthfully I wanted to give up.
And then one morning I came across these words again. I started asking myself what it would mean to look for us to look for our lost sheep. As a team, we started
Making countless calls and texts.
Driving around to the various locations that have served as ‘home’ for a night.
Buying food and other essential supplies.
Filling in the gaps that were missing when the aid that they previously depended on became over-burdened and under-resourced.
One afternoon I got into my car and just started to drive. It felt a little rebellious as we sheltered in place, but my heart wouldn’t let me sit still. I went to a store and bought food, drove to the area that some of our kids stay and sent a text to the team I work with. “I’m in Lemon Grove,” I texted, “Who lives near here?” One of my leaders responded with a name and address and I went there.
I knocked on the door and was greeted by ten family members. I told them I was there to bring them a present, after awkwardly explaining to them who I was and how I knew Jeremiah. They responded by all filing outside, into the courtyard of the apartment complex and we sat on the grass and talked. It was a little uncomfortable. And so sweet.
I was reminded that while the circumstances are strikingly different. We may all be lost sheep. I know that I was that lost sheep. I went through years of being all over the dang map; struggling with faith, doubts in that faith, and deep-seated insecurities that led me to make some very poor and dangerous choices in my earlier years.
But God never gave up.
He never stopped coming after me, showing me His face when finding me curled up behind life’s dumpsters and ditches. He never said, “Well shoot, looks like I lost her—but whatever, look at all these other wonderful children I have!”
I don’t know if anyone would have blamed Him if He had.
But He didn’t.
He kept looking for His lost sheep until He found her. She was messy and dirty and full of shame, but He didn’t care, he was just happy she was coming home where she belonged. And because of that, we too are called to keep going, we get to keep looking for the lost ones who need comfort and hope in the name of Jesus.
And the amazing thing is, we get to do the same. With the strength of our sweet Shephard, we too are equipped to go out, find, and care for the lost ones. To those who have been shunned or forgotten by many. To bring them into our arms and show them the goodness and grace of our Father.
It’s not easy work, this journey we are called to, but it’s precious and holy. Keep going.
“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”
Psalm 27:13-14
Written by Rachel Karman