The Painful Truth

When the prodigal son came to his senses, he said,
"How many of my father's hired men have food to spare,
and here I am starving to death! I will set out
and go back to my father." Luke 15:17

Lostology Law #6

Admitting you are lost is the first step in the right direction.

The Children's Museum in Portland, Oregon, falls into the "You can't get there from here" category.

Even now, after repeated visits to this creative facility, I still struggle to find it. Tucked away in back streets off a confusing stretch of road, the Children's Museum presents a directional challenge to the navigational expert--much more to the directionally challenged.

I always went to this facility with a carload of kids. Usually the load included my two daughters, Courtney and Kelly, and their friends. My girls have known about my tendency to get lost since they were very young. They have learned to recognize the defense lines I use to explain the fact that we really are not lost. Such was the case on one memorable trip to the Children's Museum.

My girls were in the back seat with their friend Sarah. My wife, Lynn Marie, sat in front with me. We were trying to find the museum and needed to be there at the specific time for a special program. It was raining, dark, and cold outside. We wound our way around the general area in which the museum was located, attempting to accidentally stumble upon it.

I had told Lynn Marie and the girls I knew the way. Map in hand, I knew we were close. But try as I might, I could not find the street. Still, I would not admit defeat.

In frustration, the girls asked, Daddy, are we lost again?" I grimaced. "No, girls. We're not lost. I know right where we are." Unsatisfied, they continued, "Are we going to miss the program?" Frustration mounted. "No. We're almost there. We won't miss the program."

Drive . . . Drive . . . Drive . . ."Mr. Kramp," Sarah said from the back seat, "I think you should have turned back there." That really galled me. Sarah was a first grader. I was not about to take directions from a first grader. "Thank you, Sarah," I said in my most controlled voice. "I know where to turn."

More wrong turns and dead ends. More questions from the back seat. Gentle exhortations from my wife to stop and ask direction. Finally, exasperated, I stopped the car and said:

"All right. We are now officially lost."

There, I said it. I said the L word. Dejected, embarrassed, I stopped and asked directions. The museum was two blocks over. Sarah, the first grader, had been right.

The Moment of Truth

It is humbling to be forced to admit we are lost. Pride must be swallowed; words must be eaten. The reality dawns that we blew it. Wrong turns and bad choices combined to get us lost. It is a clarifying moment. We stand defenseless facing the truth that we are lost, truly lost.

Women appear to handle these moments better than men. For men, these moments of truth are traumatic. I am not sure why this quirk in the male makeup exists. But whatever the reason, men steadfastly resist admitting they are lost. Yet even men cannot stay in the Lost Zone forever. The gnawing awareness grows until we say: "I really think I'm lost." Lostology Law #6 presents this truth but offers hope. An admission that we are lost is the first step we take in the right direction. This step is painful but essential if we have any hope of going home.

Pig Pen Therapy

When Jesus told the story of the prodigal son, He described the young man's experience as he moved out on his own, lived the "fast life" on his family inheritance, and ultimately ended up feeding pigs when he ran out of funds. That young man, standing among the pigs, grew so hungry that he began to look with longing at the slop the pigs ate. For him, that longing was the jolt that brought him to a decision. He admitted he was officially lost. Pig pens were not the place for him. He was born for something more. In his father's home, even if he were a slave, he would not dine with pigs.

Jesus described that point in the young man's life as the time when "he came to his senses." How appropriate. Out of the fog of confusion, the clouds parted and the young man saw the navigational stars. He stepped out of his experience and said, "What has become of me?" More than that, he examined his choices. Would he stay with the pigs? Or would he take that first step out of the pig pen and begin the long walk home? All who know the story, know the choice he made. With one decision and one step, he changed the course of his life.

Admitting the Truth

We were closing the worship service in our church. My sermon that morning addressed several truths that had strong application for the seekers among us. Knowing we had a number of individuals who needed to deal seriously with their spiritual lives, I called for a step of commitment.

In the crowd that morning was a man named Phil. More than most who attended our church, Phil resisted the gospel and refused to admit he was lost. But that morning, he seemed especially focused on what I was saying.

While others had their eyes closed, I asked those who knew they were not Christians but who were ready to follow Christ to raise their hands. I waited and watched, focusing especially on Phil.

Up to that point, his hands had been in his lap. I watched as he crossed his arms. In a few seconds, his right hand moved to his chin where it paused as if he needed to scratch. Then his hand moved to the right of his head. Great, I thought, he is about to raise his hand. I kept watching, but he moved his hand behind his head and smoothed down his hair. Still I watched and waited. In a few more moments, Phil slowly raised his hand above his head and held it there for me to see. He was admitting to me, and to himself, that he was lost.

I will never forget Phil and the process he went through that morning. His struggle to admit he was lost confirms the reality of Lostology Law #6. It is difficult for people to admit they have been going in the wrong direction. Yet once they step over that line and admit they are lost, something fundamental changes in their lives. The future opens wide before them. Changes become possible.

Gentle Does It

Evangelism becomes more productive when people move out of the Lost Zone and into the coming-to-their-senses phase. Lostologists learn to watch for signs that indicate people are beginning to admit they are lost. Here are a few indicators to watch for:

• an interest in reading the Bible or Christian literature
• questions about spiritual matters and about what Christians believe
• an interest in attending church
• expressions of dissatisfaction with the direction they have been going in life
• wishful longing for a chance to start over in life
• regrets over decisions made in the past

But what about those who are not ready to admit they are lost? What do we do with them? How hard do we push to get them to see how much they need God?

I am convinced there is nothing I can do to convict people of sin or to convince them they are lost. I continue to talk to them about Christ and explain what the Bible says about how to have a relationship with Jesus. But beyond that, I don't push. It is not that I don't care about people and long for them to trust Christ. I have just learned that I cannot do God's work. Conviction of sin is His responsibility. He works in His time. God directs the affairs of people's lives so they find themselves in an environment that heightens the awareness that their lives are not working. When people stand in pig slop and long to go home, sharing the gospel becomes easy.

The Lostology Lab

In this lab session, we will work with the following case study:

Imagine you are traveling an interstate highway on your way to an important meeting. Unfortunately, you missed a turn and are on the wrong highway. For several miles, you have been driving in the wrong direction without knowing you were lost.

Gradually you start to feel that things "don't look right." You begin to wonder if you are going in the right direction. A sign indicates you are one mile from an exit leading to service stations and restaurants where you can ask directions. The same sign states that if you do not take the next exit, you will have to drive twenty-seven miles to find additional service stations and restaurants.

Lostology Law #6 states that "Admitting you are lost is the first step in the right direction." Apply law #6 to this case study by answering the following questions and making application to what non-Christians feel as they struggle to admit they are spiritually lost:

• In the situation described in this case study, would you stop and ask directions at the next exit or keep driving? What considerations would lead you to stop? What considerations would lead you to keep driving?
• Let's assume you pull off the highway to look at your map. You have not changed your direction, but at least you are not moving further away from where you need to be. In what ways do non-Christians make a "pull-off-the-road-and-think-about-it" decision concerning their spiritual lives? How is this decision different from admitting they are spiritually lost and asking for spiritual directions?
• Let's pretend that while you are looking at your map, you say, "I don't know how it happened, but I'm not where I'm supposed to be; I'm lost." What is the value of that admission? What are the consequences of that admission? How does this apply to non-Christians who admit they are lost? Why is their admission the first step in the right direction?

Coming Next: No More Options

Once people admit to themselves they are lost, they take a small step in the right direction. But lostologists understand the first step is usually tiny and tentative. In most cases, that first step leads to an intermediate step before the person finds the right road home--a stop to ask directions.