Familiar Joy

“I’ll just take my suitcase upstairs and change out of these clothes I’ve been wearing all day on the plane. I’ll be down in a minute.”

But when I unzipped my suitcase and flipped up the cover, nothing looked familiar. A gray T-shirt? As I searched through the contents I discovered more of the same. A man’s personal bag containing numerous medications; men’s blue jeans and shirts; men’s workout shorts and shirt. What were these things doing in MY suitcase? Something was definitely wrong.

It took me a few moments to realize that I had someone else’s carry-on bag. It sure looked like mine. Same color, size, and make. But the handle was slightly different. And there was no identification tag stating my name and address.

It turned out we had quickly grabbed what we thought were our suitcases from the overhead bin in Chicago. My suitcase traveled on to Washington, DC, where the mix-up was discovered by a gentleman who became my frequent texting partner for the next several days.

***

I used to enjoy wandering in the woods as a young girl, looking for the unexpected, finding treasures in nature. There were times when I found myself on paths that were exciting but unfamiliar. The thrill of adventure could quickly turn to fear when I glanced around for anything familiar. What a relief to follow a path back and discover a certain tree or rock that pointed me in the right direction. Of course I’d never admit being lost to my mom. She might have put a stop to my explorations.

When my husband and I travel in new areas, I make it a habit to notice landmarks and signs. That way, if we need to retrace our steps we can look for familiar objects. There’s nothing worse than wandering aimlessly when nothing looks familiar and we’re sure we are lost. Have we come this way before? And how wonderful it is when one of us finally spots a recognizable building or road sign!

If we are in a new country, a new job, or a new school, we might be uncomfortable with the foods, sounds, sights, or routines. We seek out anything that looks or at least seems familiar.

On the other hand, we might be looking for a fresh start where no one knows us. Where, thank goodness, we aren’t familiar to anyone.

Sometimes we need a break from our life, our surroundings, our routines. We deliberately seek out the unfamiliar just for fun or a diversion. That’s what vacations are all about. Something different from the day-to-day. Before too many days or weeks, though, we begin to long for the comfort zones of our ordinary lives, the expected, welcomed everyday.

***

I sometimes think about my father who suffered from Alzheimer’s disease for many years before his death. I came to understand the confusion and even panic he felt when nothing looked familiar to him, not even his own reflection in the mirror. He had no landmarks or signs or comfort zones. Although he kept searching, he couldn’t get back to the familiar.

Yet it was his Savior that kept reaching out to him. In hymns that were still tucked away in a corner of his mind. In the familiar psalms and prayers he had memorized as a young boy and that now refused to abandon him in his last days.

It’s a comfort to me to know that my dad was well taken care of by my Lord. It’s a comfort to me to know that I too am well taken care of.

After all, Psalm 139:3 tells me that He is familiar with all my ways. That carries a lot of implications. I know He’s been watching me for a long time. Forever! We’ve had a long association. We have an intimate connection, even when I haven’t always taken the time to nurture that relationship.

He knows exactly what I’m up to. I’m sure sometimes it makes Him laugh, “There she goes again!” And I know at times it also grieves Him.

But Satan can be like that misidentified suitcase, so close to the actual but containing nothing useful or helpful. And if I’m not careful, I’ll drag that bag of useless taunts and regrets around for no reason.

I don’t need to keep that grief and sorrow close to me. My Savior was the one who was intimately familiar with pain (Isaiah 53:3). Not only the physical pain He suffered from the scourging and the cross, but also the pain of loss. Separation from His Father. Sin that engulfed Him. Death.

Because He was acquainted with all of this, I don’t have to be friends with any of it!

When I’m traveling life with my Lord Jesus I can truly relax knowing nothing is new to Him. The comfort zone of the familiar and the excitement of daily adventures He plans fill me with hope.

After all, I’m with the One who has the familiar voice, the familiar love. That familiar, understanding forgiveness, and that familiar joy!

Leaving my guilt at the cross,

Christine