We are never truly lost, are we?

I’m being whisked back to 2006 when Minnesota native Jonathan David Francis was mountain climbing in Idaho, lost his footing and his life.  He was lost for long time as well.  His father, David, wrote a book about their search for their beloved son called Bringing Jon Home:  The Wilderness Search for Jon Francis, and I am reading it for my Grief and Loss class.

The book is written like a diary from notes collected and organized.  It is a father’s heartfelt story of the biggest, untimely, unexpected loss in his life.  Though it is a recollection of the events, it is filled with David’s memories, regrets, wishes and desires for his faithful son.  A Stillwater native and active Episcopalian, Jon was working at a Lutheran church as a youth leader and also worked at a camp.  He had recently decided to apply to seminary.  He loved God, living in and around nature, youth and his high school sweetheart.  He was 24 years old.

His disappearance was only one part of this story.  It is also the story of law enforcement and government workers who were unwilling to try to locate Jon.  Because David was running for a seat in the Minnesota House, the “powers” in Idaho felt manipulated by the significant support, from churches, friends and government officials around the country.  They refused to allow their searchers to go off safe paths to search when it was still possible Jon was alive.  They ended the search after two days.  It seems unbelievable that so little effort would be put forth. 

Jesus tells a parable of the lost sheep.  One out of one hundred head went missing and the shepherd left the ninety nine in search of the one.  There is also the parable of the lost coin and the frantic search by the woman.  There is much rejoicing when what has been lost is found.  The Francis family was not given the chance to find their son alive let alone dead under the odd decisions made by law enforcement.  They were told to “Give your son to the mountain.”  This is not what Jesus taught. 

I’m only half way through the book, so I don’t know the whole story, yet.  But I’m reading the anguished words of a lost father in search of his lost son and it is powerful and sad.

I met David Francis a few weeks ago.  I’m hoping I can reconnect with him after I read the rest of the book to understand more of his story of his process through grief.  Waiting for months to find his son’s body, unable to provide proof of death to creditors, holding one another without tangible proof and hoping this tragedy has some kind of lesson had to be so very difficult.

As I read about the support the family received through prayer and physical presence by not only their faith community in Stillwater but the church and camp in Idaho and the Episcopal Bishop of Minnesota and beyond, I could sense that God was always in their midst.  When the mountain range turned from a beautiful place to an ugly place, God was still there.  They knew it. 

I’m not sure how I would cope under similar circumstances and I hope I never have to find out.


Dear God, there is so much hurt in this world and yet your love is felt abundantly through the pain.  There is hope when all seems lost.  It is all because of communal relationship with you.  When we are in community, worshiping you with one another, we find a place of hope and grace that can and often does sustain us in our time of need.  Be with those this night who are feeling alone and afraid, for those about to travel through their fear of travelling to find solace from doctors or find comfort in the arms of loved ones.  Be with the lost ones, lost through physical or mental separation.  Protect those who have fallen into human sex trafficking.  Use us to feed and clothe the hungry and cold.  Enfold in your abundant arms those who are the most vulnerable this night, filling them with your unending love.  Amen.