I am an intelligent woman. Really, I am. I graduated with honors from an impressive high school. I graduated from college with a double major in Elementary Education and English, and a minor in Music. I’m smart, I tell you.
So could someone please explain to me why I am so dumb when it comes to directions? I’m directionally disabled. I kid you not, I couldn’t find my way out of a paper bag. Not even with a detailed map.
I’ve always been that way. In college, even though I made mostly A’s, I was late to most of my classes. Not because I overslept. No. That would be logical.
I was late because it would take the entire semester to remember which door I was supposed to go in. By the time I learned which classroom was mine, the semester would end, and boom. New classes to find.
I thought this was an ailment I’d outgrow with time. I was wrong. It seems the older I get, the more distracted I become, and the more distracted I become, the more lost I get.
And don’t even get me started on those blasted GPS machines. They make things so much worse! Those hoity-toity people with their snooty British accents. Turn left. Turn right. Recalculating. Redirecting. I’ve found myself, on occasion, giving the GPS machine directions. But we won’t get into that.
Somehow, by the grace of God and no doubt because of my mother’s prayers, I almost always find where I’m going. Eventually. And the good news is, after I repeat a route say, 50 times or more, I usually have it memorized. I may be a slow learner, but I do learn.
It’s not just ordinal directions that keep me lost. Sometimes, I feel lost in life. Just like there were too many doors in the English building at my university, there are too many choices in my life. Choose this. Choose that. Recalculate. Redirect. It seems there are voices at every turn, telling me which way I should choose.
But I’ve learned to hear one voice above the others. There is one voice that has proven itself, time and again, to lead me the right way. He’s proven that He loves me unconditionally, and that He wants only what is best for me.
Though I may be a slow learner, He never gives up on me or loses patience. He just continues to whisper encouraging directions. And when I take a wrong turn now and again, He doesn’t scold me. Instead, He waits with open arms for me to look for Him again. All I have to do is listen for that familiar, loving voice and move toward it, and there He is. Waiting, welcoming, wanting me.
No matter how lost I may feel, if I listen for His voice, I’ll always find my way home.
“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me,” John 10:27.
You write beautifully, Renae. Great post!
And God doesn’t speak in a snooty British accent… 😉
…and God doesn’t have a snooty British accent! 😉
Enjoyed the post, Renae…….and so looking forward to seeing you guys in August…..God is good!
Thanks, you guys! Jennifer – He might have an accent, but I’m sure it’s not snooty. ;-)I’ve always wondered if He might sound Texan . . .
Are you left-handed, Renae? I blame my being directionally-challenged on being left-handed. It doesn’t help me find where I’m going, but it places blame on my hand rather than my head! Good to read your columns again!
Clarice, no. I’m as right-handed as they come. I wish I had that to blame it on. My husband says it’s because I’m blonde . . . 😉
I’ve refused to get a GPS for these very reasons! Instead I just make everyday an adventure. And pray a lot.
Glad to know I have a GPS soul sister out there, Gail! 😉 Praying is way better. Especially when you have my sense of direction.