Recently, I got turned around when I was out on a run. I was in a different area than usual, it was dark, and I wasn't exactly willing to slow down to try to find my way. Instead, I just kept running, hoping that streets would eventually connect to where I thought they would. Needless to say, I ended up going a bit farther than I had originally planned that morning.
I remember when I first started driving that I got lost quite a bit. There were moments of going the wrong way on one-way streets, traveling north when I should have been going south, and ending up in cities I never even knew existed. Each time this happened, I called my dad. He's insanely good with directions, and it seems like he can always help me navigate my way back to the right way, even when he isn't extremely familiar with the area in which I some how ended up in that moment.
The funny thing is that I always think I know where I'm going. I tell myself I'm taking the right exit or that the road I need is just up ahead, and I keep going even when I realize that I likely took a wrong turn somewhere along the way. I always reach a breaking point, though, where I know I need to get out my phone and call my dad. There have been times when I have even stopped at gas stations or other places first to ask locals for directions, but it usually only makes sense when I call Skipper.
It's really humbling to have to call and ask for help when I'm lost. Sometimes I feel as if it's something my dad expects will happen—that I won't be able to find where I'm going and will have to call on him once again. I always feel like he's going to be disappointed in me for not being able to stay on the right path, but that's not the case. In fact, I think he enjoys being able to get me going in the right direction again.
It's quite obvious that this is often how things go in my life outside of driving and running. When I take a wrong turn or lose my way, my first instinct is to try to find my way on my own. I think I know exactly what I'm doing or where I'm going, and then it becomes evident that I need help. Lost and frustrated, I call on my Father to come and rescue me—I depend on Him to be able to get me back on the right path and going toward where I need to be going.
Similarly to admitting I'm lost on the roads, it's humbling to have to admit that I'm lost in life. Although I know that God is always there to set my path straight, for some reason I feel the need to seek it out myself. Sometimes I even ask others for help first rather than call on the One who really knows what the best way to go is. But things truly only make sense when I cry out to Him.
It's not always clear where we are going on the maps of our lives, but one thing is for certain: we have the best Cartographer possible. Just trust Him. He's more reliable than GPS. Or Siri.
I remember when I first started driving that I got lost quite a bit. There were moments of going the wrong way on one-way streets, traveling north when I should have been going south, and ending up in cities I never even knew existed. Each time this happened, I called my dad. He's insanely good with directions, and it seems like he can always help me navigate my way back to the right way, even when he isn't extremely familiar with the area in which I some how ended up in that moment.
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| Sometimes you just don't know where to go. |
It's really humbling to have to call and ask for help when I'm lost. Sometimes I feel as if it's something my dad expects will happen—that I won't be able to find where I'm going and will have to call on him once again. I always feel like he's going to be disappointed in me for not being able to stay on the right path, but that's not the case. In fact, I think he enjoys being able to get me going in the right direction again.
It's quite obvious that this is often how things go in my life outside of driving and running. When I take a wrong turn or lose my way, my first instinct is to try to find my way on my own. I think I know exactly what I'm doing or where I'm going, and then it becomes evident that I need help. Lost and frustrated, I call on my Father to come and rescue me—I depend on Him to be able to get me back on the right path and going toward where I need to be going.
Similarly to admitting I'm lost on the roads, it's humbling to have to admit that I'm lost in life. Although I know that God is always there to set my path straight, for some reason I feel the need to seek it out myself. Sometimes I even ask others for help first rather than call on the One who really knows what the best way to go is. But things truly only make sense when I cry out to Him.
It's not always clear where we are going on the maps of our lives, but one thing is for certain: we have the best Cartographer possible. Just trust Him. He's more reliable than GPS. Or Siri.
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