Lost


I am looking at myself in the mirror, something I have not wanted to do. After being heartbroken, I have made some choices I am not proud of. I am on a Katie inflicted roller coaster, full of ups and downs, daily, due to old patterns resurfacing, and I don’t know how to get off. I just know I must.
A girl I love like part of me came to a party thrown for our mutual friend. She has a life that has made mine look like a “Leave it to Beaver” special, both her parents dead, and we have this deep connection, something I have never experienced like it. I asked her what her name meant, and was not surprised it was “Warrior.” Only a warrior gets up and faces each day the way she has at such a young age, by the grace of her faith and humility. Don’t here me say she does it gracefully. She is a beautiful mess that girl, drunk and loud, flawed, and unashamed to be that. I also saw who she is, and through this, I believe in who she will become. She does see it yet, but believe me, she will.
I believe I saw myself.
We talked for hours, rambling on and on about topics that had people around us dropping like flies. No one wants to go near the realness of what tragedy means, unless they have faced it themselves. I do not blame them. I was once one of them too.
Until the next morning I woke finding that she had gone missing. I paced and paced, sick with grief, responsibility, my own horror of what might have happened to her playing through my head like a horror film.
I laid in my bed, my heart pounding through my chest, my prayers full of anxiety and pain, not just for her, but for myself.
That is when Lola and Kat got in bed with me. Here came the questions. I wanted to disappear rather than face them.
“Yes,” I answered, and we discussed she was missing like the time they hid in the car and gave me a panic attack, an awful day where I screamed and cried for them to never do that to me again.
“Yes,” I sighed. I had prayed to the angels.
They could see the questions were getting us nowhere.
Then Lola gripped my face, turning it to her so slowly, cupping my chin so I couldn’t but face her adorable hazel blue green eyes.
“Mama.”
“Yes,” I asked. I just wanted her to leave me alone, didn’t want her to see my hurt and my worry, didn’t want to burden her with my own drama, something I hated myself as a mother for even bringing home.
“Mama.” She said it again, but softer.
Her voice lightened, and her gaze deepened. “Don’t worry,” she said. “When I lost Penny, you said nothing was ever lost in the mind of God.” That was a full sentence for a four year old.
She always claimed to be a child genius.
“She is not lost.” She made this most certain.
“She is not under the couch like Penny (her favorite stuffed doggy) or in the van like us.”
“Where is she Lola?” I asked with a sad lost feeling, waiting for the child genius to pull me out of my dark place, a place I wanted to hide from her, feeling very badly that she was a part of the discussion to begin with.
She kissed me on the forehead.
“Mama, she is in the trees. She climbed way up and is playing, not wanting you to find her or worry.”
She jumped off my lap, now satisfied seeing I had to smile at her clever thought, a thought I had once believed in until that moment.
And she was right, my little red headed genius.
Not about the trees, but about everything else. “Nothing is lost in the mind of God,” a quote I had used for years when looking for my purse, her toys, our car in a big parking lot.
Even tonight, my heart searching, my roller coaster I can’t find the answers off of, need a big tree I must climb up in my mind, if not for the Warrior, or the red headed genius, but for myself.
I must believe that not even I, a soul weary from searching, can ever be lost in the mind of God.

2 thoughts on “Lost

  1. Love love love it!! I love you girl. Im not missing either!

  2. to have uncomplicated, non-corrupted, simple child like faith….children are one of God’s favorite tools…..love you Kathleen Susan Marsh

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