Lost Sheep and Creek-Walks

"There it is!" We'd already passed the little yellow house once, and it wouldn't be too hard to pass again, nestled around a corner on the side of a wooded mountain. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as we pulled into the driveway, and a couple little boys bounded down the steps toward us.

"You've grown!" I said as we shared shy smiles and hugs with Joshua and Jason.* We never thought we'd see these kids again after dropping them off after a week at camp last summer. Home was a whole lot different at the end of that week of camp than before they'd left.

But here we were, miraculously reunited, camp applications in hand, being welcomed inside by their mom, Ginger.* Life had been a struggle over the past year, she said, but they were surviving. And she was excited about the boys going to camp again. We waited as she filled in the information and added signatures, watching the boys' eyes grow wide with excitement as they decided on camp activities. The papers were nearly done, and I didn't want to leave. As we got in the car and started on our way to the creek, I asked Elisa if we could go back and take the boys. Yeah, we were going to have a quiet Sabbath afternoon...but these were, well, these were kind of our "favorites." Elisa agreed to the idea, and so did their mom, and soon we were on our way.

Creeks transform innocent little boys into mighty explorers and adventure-seekers. And little boys transform innocent creeks into war zones and water slides. And with transformed boys and creeks, you have no choice but to join in! I've been to that creek before, but never had so much fun in my life as watching those boys take in the natural wonders of creek-walking the way kids are supposed to. Knowing that this was an extra special treat for them made it even better.

Eventually, the afternoon ended, but there was always promise for other adventures. Elisa had ideas for baseball games and cardboard sledding. And of course, camp.

A few weeks later, Elisa called to see about the baseball game idea. They'd moved. We were able to get their number, and the mom gave us directions, but we missed the game. We put in another good creek-walking day, though, complete with a stop at Taco Bell/Pizza Hut where Jason got some awesome thumb wrestling characters in his kids meal. We counted over 25 barns on the way back from the creek, and talked about camp. They were still excited. Jason was wearing his Cohutta Springs t-shirt from last year.

It's hard to explain how my heart could be so happy even as it was breaking as Elisa, Emily, Amanda and I spent time with them that day a few weeks ago. Those boys were so inspiring, but their situation was desperate. Their mom was desperate. I told her I would try to think of some ideas, look for resources. I wanted to talk to her more, get a better idea of her situation, and was planning on a good talk with her a few weekends later when we had planned to run around and pick up all the kids' camp paperwork. A few times I thought about calling, but I didn't want to bother her.

I called on Friday to see if we could swing by on Sunday and drop off some more paperwork.
"She's not here any more."
"Do you know where she is?"
"No, she didn't say."

It's been a week and a half since that conversation. A week and a half of calling every contact we could think of, checking every avenue, every idea to try to find them. Do they know it's time for camp? Are they wishing they could go, but don't know how to reach us? Are they with their mom or someone else? Are they ok?

Last Sunday morning was the hardest. The four other kids we drove to camp did a good job of cheering me up, but there was still a big hole in my heart for our two missing sheep. Elisa and I talked about how we would take those boys as they were--no excuses. Dirty, tired, needy, hungry--we didn't care. We would just be so happy to see them again, and to see them having fun, learning about a God who loves them so much and who can shelter them in such a harsh world. I realized it's not just about camp any more--it's about two special lives who have so much potential, who Jesus loves so much.

Only God knows where His missing sheep are. But I'm thankful for these lessons He's let me learn: to miss His missing sheep half as much as He does, and to long for the day when we can all go play in the creek with Him as long as we want.

*Names changed to respect privacy.