I will never forget it.
Our family was driving through Washington, D.C. at rush hour (poor planning, I know!) and got lost.
Not utterly, hopelessly lost-but definitely turned around.
Multiple lanes of traffic, unfamiliar signs, lots and lots of cars traveling way. too. fast.
My husband was driving and I was trying to read the map-trying to make sense of where we were and where we needed to be but I couldn’t do it fast enough to make a difference.
As soon as I determined which lane we should be in, which exit we should take, we had passed it.
In frustration, my husband finally just stopped–in the middle of the road on a small patch of no-man’s-land between two diverging lanes. I was scared to death.
And then a police car pulled up behind us.
The officer got out and asked what was going on. We explained our dilemma and he led us out of the maze of confusing options to the right road and we were on our way.
So many days I feel just like I did those years ago-confused, frightened, trying desperately to figure out which way to go but never able to slow down enough to really get a good look at the map.
I feel like I’m trying to navigate strange streets going 90 MPH.
Should I turn right or left?
Did I just miss my exit?
I have no idea.
The destination is sure: I will leave this place and join my son in Heaven. But the path is winding and challenging and hard to figure out.
I can’t get out of the car called “Life” and wait until I have a clear route marked before me.
Sometimes I manage to get where I want to go. Sometimes I don’t.
Some days and some events turn out resembling how I thought they should. Many don’t.
So I keep on keeping on.
I’m navigating with the tools at hand and hoping for the best.