In first grade, my son Drew became lost at school. He had attended kindergarten at Holy Comforter Episcopal Church. The move from a one-classroom kindergarten to an elementary with more than 400 kids was overwhelming and intimidating. In the mornings, at Southside Elementary, the students gathered in the cafeteria. Each teacher met their students and escorted them to the classroom.
One morning, as his class walked down the hall, Drew took a left when the rest of the class did not. Drew found himself in the Land of Giants … 5th graders. He was lost. He was confused. He was scared. He couldn’t see to find his way out because it was, after all, the Land of Giants and he was dwarfed from sight. When Drew shared his story with me, I asked how he made it out of the 5th grade wing and to the correct classroom. He told me he stuck his hand up as high as he could and waited for someone to grab hold and show him where to go.
I understand. I, too, feel overwhelmed, scared, and lost. At a point in my life where I imagined I would have it all figured out, I am more confused than ever.
My parents are aging; our roles have reversed. I wonder, how do I parent my own parents? Why should I assume to make life decisions for them; who do I think I am? How do I protect and comfort them? I am lost.
It is not just with my family life where I feel lost. Our nation and its policies have become personal. I once treasured a good discussion (argument) over political and even religious ideology. As a former high school debate coach, I find respectful, albeit passionate, philosophical disagreements invigorating and mentally stimulating. It is a unique high. But when policies infringe on human dignity and social justice, when policies and rhetoric jeopardize life, it becomes personal. When members of my community and even some friends are filled with fear and hate for others, my heart breaks. I am lost. I do not recognize my country; this is not who we are. My soul aches and cries out. I mourn for the vulnerable and desperate. I mourn for our nation; I mourn for who we should be and long for who we can be. But my tears do not change a damned thing. It is overwhelming. I feel helpless. I cannot see to find my way out. I am dwarfed from sight. Lost.
Watching the news, I thought of little First-Grade-Drew. And so, I am sticking my hand up as high as I can, and with that childlike faith I pray a benevolent Love will grab hold and show me, show us, where to go.
