Finding Waldo, Finding God
|
Have you ever noticed that finding God is a lot like finding Waldo?
Sometimes you try and find him on your own, and other times you look with many others.
There are times when you think you have found him; you see the red and white striped shirt. . . or the hat. . . or the pants. . . and your heart leaps with joy and triumph, only to feel abandoned, and found wanting moments later as you realize it is not Waldo. You feel cheated, and you start to. . . start to. . . start to what?
You start to become frustrated with Waldo. You start to become frustrated with yourself. You start to become frustrated with all those around you. You become a person with hate in your heart, and pain in your eyes. You start to blame Waldo for everything wrong in life. You find yourself searching in vain, as if you’re in a deep pit and every attempt you make to jump out only loosens the dirt on the walls and makes it even harder to get a foothold.
And then you take a break. You turn the page. . . close the book. . . move on. Time passes. It’s a short period for some, a long one for others, and for some it’s an eternity.
And then you start to think about Waldo again. You remember the brief moments of joy and triumph, but you also remember the devastation and frustration. You start to ponder what life would be like after finding Waldo.
You build up you courage, your strength, and you open the book again; you begin to search once more. . . and then you become frustrated. You search, and search, and search, and search, and search and search – you start to lose hope.
And that’s when you start to notice all the others on the page, all the people who aren’t Waldo. You realize that you never stopped to acknowledge or think about all those other people. You never stopped to look, to really look at all those individuals. . .
And then it clicks.
All those other people might be in the same situation as you; they may also be searching for Waldo, searching for a way out of the chaos, their own deep pit.
And then it happens: You were so engrossed in the faces of those other people on the page that you almost forgot what you were searching for in the first place. You get that feeling of joy and triumph again. And then you wait. . . for that feeling of abandonment. . . but it doesn’t come. A weight has been lifted off your shoulders. A rope has been lowered down into your deep pit and someone is pulling you out. You emerge out of the pit, and there he is – strong, unwavering hands grasping the rope. You smile. . .
You have found Waldo.
And that’s when you notice – there are other people holding onto the rope. All those who care for you are there, all those that love you are present. Friends, family, you pet dog “Max” – they’re all there. And you realize that they have all helped you in some way in your journey.
You realize how lucky you are, you realize how special you are.
You lean back from the page, and take a long hard look. You let out a deep breath and smile.
Everything is perfectly in place.
And Waldo? He’s as clear as ever.
Sometimes you try and find him on your own, and other times you look with many others.
There are times when you think you have found him; you see the red and white striped shirt. . . or the hat. . . or the pants. . . and your heart leaps with joy and triumph, only to feel abandoned, and found wanting moments later as you realize it is not Waldo. You feel cheated, and you start to. . . start to. . . start to what?
You start to become frustrated with Waldo. You start to become frustrated with yourself. You start to become frustrated with all those around you. You become a person with hate in your heart, and pain in your eyes. You start to blame Waldo for everything wrong in life. You find yourself searching in vain, as if you’re in a deep pit and every attempt you make to jump out only loosens the dirt on the walls and makes it even harder to get a foothold.
And then you take a break. You turn the page. . . close the book. . . move on. Time passes. It’s a short period for some, a long one for others, and for some it’s an eternity.
And then you start to think about Waldo again. You remember the brief moments of joy and triumph, but you also remember the devastation and frustration. You start to ponder what life would be like after finding Waldo.
You build up you courage, your strength, and you open the book again; you begin to search once more. . . and then you become frustrated. You search, and search, and search, and search, and search and search – you start to lose hope.
And that’s when you start to notice all the others on the page, all the people who aren’t Waldo. You realize that you never stopped to acknowledge or think about all those other people. You never stopped to look, to really look at all those individuals. . .
And then it clicks.
All those other people might be in the same situation as you; they may also be searching for Waldo, searching for a way out of the chaos, their own deep pit.
And then it happens: You were so engrossed in the faces of those other people on the page that you almost forgot what you were searching for in the first place. You get that feeling of joy and triumph again. And then you wait. . . for that feeling of abandonment. . . but it doesn’t come. A weight has been lifted off your shoulders. A rope has been lowered down into your deep pit and someone is pulling you out. You emerge out of the pit, and there he is – strong, unwavering hands grasping the rope. You smile. . .
You have found Waldo.
And that’s when you notice – there are other people holding onto the rope. All those who care for you are there, all those that love you are present. Friends, family, you pet dog “Max” – they’re all there. And you realize that they have all helped you in some way in your journey.
You realize how lucky you are, you realize how special you are.
You lean back from the page, and take a long hard look. You let out a deep breath and smile.
Everything is perfectly in place.
And Waldo? He’s as clear as ever.