Little Lost Turtle

On the grounds of my apartment complex are two man-made ponds, one slightly larger than the other. While they aren’t much to look at in comparison to what my roommate is used to –a Minnesotan from the “land of 10,000 lakes”–the ponds provide a sense of tranquility.

One day I drove past the smaller pond on my way to work and saw movement. I stared at the little creature that seemed lost and struggled to scale the curb back into the water’s safety. Sadly, the little turtle had lost its way.

Momentarily, I considered placing my car in park to retrieve the little guy and set him comfortably back in his familiar habitat. But my worry of being late for work and my need for clean hands held me back. Instead, I hoped that the shelled reptile wouldn’t have a life-ending altercation with a rubber tire or overly aggressive dog.

Obviously the little turtle is still on my mind days later, and I wish I’d taken the time to ensure his safety that day. I’ve been thinking about how I’m so glad God doesn’t do the same with us if we’ve lost our way. Whether we’ve been “lost” all of our lives and have yet to come to Him in repentance or have momentarily decided our way is better, He never stops pursuing us and beckoning us to come to Him. After all, Jesus told a parable in Luke 15 stating that a shepherd will leave behind ninety-nine sheep to search for the one that’s missing.

I’m so glad inconveniences don’t deter God from finding me when I’ve lost my way. I’m just as important as those other ninety-nine.