Little Boy Lost

The following is a true story in poetic form.

I found a boy in the street today.
Who he was or where he was from, he could not say.
His shoes were muddy and pants were wet,
No more than 3 years old, just he and his trusty pet.

It was not safe, but he knew no better.
Not a care in the world, he was light as a feather.
I picked him up, at first he resisted.
But sitting in the backseat, he finally desisted.

His toy car in one hand, mine in the other.
He chitted and chatted as we looked for father or mother.
At last a neighbor came riding to the rescue,
The boy returned home safe and sound, it is true.

As I left the relief came with a friend in tow,
A sort of grim disappointment, just a feeling, I know.
But it seems likely this won't be his last taste of trouble,
Will he escape next time, or will disaster burst his bubble?

And it hit me as I thought about this, is this not what God feels for us?

He sees us meandering aimlessly among life's temptation and sin's pitfalls, often oblivious to the danger. And he tries to guide us safely back home, but he knows that soon enough we will again be flirting with danger, playing 'Frogger' with sin's onrushing headlights and slowly walk further and further from safety.

Not that this is new to God. Adam had but one pitfall to avoid in the Garden, and he couldn't do it, so how much more surprising is it that we can sit in church, sing the songs, read the scripture and still stray?

We are all a little boy lost, and we all need a Savior.

Isaiah 53:6 says: "We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way ..."

But it goes on to add this: "and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all."
That's Jesus, our shepherd, the finder of the lost.