I WAS LOST AND NOW I AM FOUND

Based on The Gospels of Matthew 18:12-14 and Luke 15:4-7

I never expected to find God in my 30s—mostly because I didn’t even know I was supposed to be looking for Him.

I didn’t grow up in faith. I didn’t know the Bible. I didn’t understand who Jesus really was or why any of it mattered. God wasn’t something I had rejected—He was just never part of the picture.

But when I read Jesus’ parable about the lost sheep, I realised: I was the one.

The one out of a hundred who had wandered far. Not in open rebellion—but in quiet disconnection. No one would have looked at my life and called it “lost”, but deep down, I was. I just didn’t know it.

And the Shepherd came anyway.

I used to think that as long as I wasn’t against religion, I was probably okay. I wasn’t anti-God or anything—I just never really gave it much thought. It didn’t seem to matter in my everyday life. I didn’t see the need. I believed I was doing fine. But I was disconnected and completely unaware of the One who gave me life, who designed me with purpose, and who sees worth in me that I couldn’t even see in myself.

Jesus tells us in the parable that the shepherd leaves the 99 to go and search for the one lost sheep. He doesn’t shrug and say, “Oh well, it’s just one.”

No—He goes after it. And when He finds it, He rejoices.

It took time, questions, and people placed in my life at just the right moments—but slowly, the Shepherd was drawing me in. There was no dramatic rescue from disaster, no lightning bolt moment—just a deepening awareness that I had been seen, known, and sought. He found me.

I didn’t even know I was missing until He started calling me.
But once I heard His voice—once I began to understand who Jesus was and what He had done—I couldn’t ignore it.
And when I finally turned toward Him, I realised He had already been running toward me.

Transformation doesn’t happen overnight—but it happens. When that lost sheep was brought home, it didn’t become perfect. It was still the same sheep—but it was safe, loved, and restored to where it belonged.

That’s me now. I didn’t just “add faith” to my life—I was changed by it.

The way I think has shifted.
The way I understand love, forgiveness, and identity is being rebuilt.
My heart is softer. My priorities are different.
I’ve begun to care about things I never even considered before—and it’s not because I’m trying to be someone else. It’s because the One who found me is still transforming me.

Jesus said that heaven rejoices more over one lost soul who returns than over ninety-nine who didn’t wander off.

That truth undoes me.

Because I had no idea I mattered that much.
I had no idea that God Himself would celebrate over me—someone who didn’t know a single verse, had no spiritual background, and came late into the story.

But grace doesn’t care when you arrive.
It only matters that you do.

This parable is one of my favourites because it tells my story. It reminds me that I wasn’t forgotten, even in all the years I didn’t know God. It assures me that my value isn’t based on when I came to faith or how much I knew, but on God’s relentless love. I will never forget the moment I realised: I was the one He came to find—and He never gave up on me.

You don’t have to be wildly broken to be lost. Sometimes, being lost just means living without direction, meaning, or relationship with the One who made you.

And if that’s where you are now—hear this: The Shepherd is looking for you.
Not to shame you. Not to scold you. But to bring you home.

I was the one. And now I’m found.

Not because I earned it, or even because I knew to ask for it—but because He came looking for me.