I get lost easily. Well, that’s a bit of an understatement. I have absolutely no sense of direction. Getting from Point A to Point B sometimes feels like someone blindfolds me, drops me somewhere I’ve never been, and asks me to find the nearest hotel. Most of my meetings are within twenty minutes of my house. My house in a very small town that I’ve lived in for my entire life. Shameful as this is to admit, I’ve taken unintentional detours on my way to nearly half of my appointments.
While some people may find such escapades incredibly irritating, I have found a sweet solace in my misadventures. Extended prayer time before appointments always improves my spirits, and I account for getting lost when planning travel time. Because of this struggle, I always have a bit more time to center on the real purpose of what I’m doing before knocking on someone’s door.
Sometimes, I successfully locate my destination without an unnecessary tour of a nearby neighborhood, yet manage to become befuddled on my journey home. On one exceptionally long trip home through personally unchartered territory, God taught me valuable lessons during the extra alone time.
Off went the radio, and off went the bad attitude. I praised God for granting me peace and for providing the technology necessary to get me back on track. God’s got a great way of redirecting my course when I lose my way. Sometimes it’s through a GPS, other times through serious conversations and convicting quiet time. Even though my instinct is to squirm and fuss until I’m back where I belong, I’ve learned to smile up at the sun as I chug along and reconnect with the proper path. If I can’t enjoy these growth moments, I’ve got a lifetime of frustration on the road before me.