The other morning, this thought entered my stream of consciousness quite abruptly. It was not like most thoughts that seem to float down my river of consciousness, where I can gingerly shift focus of attention from one thought to the next, as if hopping from one boat to another. No, this thought appeared suddenly, as if a giant boulder had been ever-so-gently placed in the middle of the river. No splash. No waves. I did not see it coming. It was just suddenly there, sitting in the middle of the river of my thoughts, waiting for me to engage it. Although this particular thought did not demand attention, it did make its presence known. It waited. It waited patiently until all the other thoughts had drifted off down the river and allowed me to step onto it.
The thought was simple. It was also startling. I may have even thought about it previously, but it must have been washed down stream with so many other thoughts. This one particular thought could not be classified as profound or earthshaking, but it has managed to change the direction of my prayer life by a few degrees.
I have developed the habit of ending some of my prayers by giving thanks to God for finding me, for opening my heart to Him and to others. The other morning, I remember pausing at the thought of God finding me. It was not that God had lost tract of me. He knew exactly where I was and what I was doing. I was the one who was lost, and even though I did not know it at the time, I was looking for Him. I had needed His help to step outside of myself in order to be found, to let God open the door to my heart. God found me. He helped me (and still does). God gave me the gift of faith.
Now that I have been found, why me? Why then? How was it that I was lucky enough to learn or recognize the fact that God has loved me my whole life? That He wants a relationship with each of us? I am tempted to ask what drew God