Turn left

Renae Brumbaugh Green

I am an intelligent woman. Really, I am. I graduated with honors from an impressive high school. I obtained a university degree 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 getting from point A to point B? I’m directionally disabled. I kid you not, I couldn’t find my way out of a grocery bag. Not even with a detailed map.

 

I’ve always been that way. In college, I was late to most of my classes, but not because I overslept. No. That would be logical.

 

I was late because it took the entire semester to remember which door I was supposed to go in. By the time I learned which classroom was mine, the semester ended, and boom. New classes to find.

 

I thought I’d outgrow this ailment with time. I was wrong. 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 with their hoity-toity, snooty British accents. Turn left. Turn right. Recalculating. Redirecting. I’ve found myself, on occasion, telling the GPS where to go. But we won’t get into that.

 

Somehow, by the grace of God and 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 confused. Sometimes, I feel lost in other ways. 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. There are voices at every turn, telling me which way to go.

 

But I’ve learned to listen to one direction-giver above the others. There is one voice that’s proven itself, time and again, to lead me the right way. He’s confirmed in countless ways that He loves me unconditionally, and 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 continues to whisper encouraging wisdom and counsel. 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 presence 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.