"Will we ever get there?" is the question my daughter and I asked aloud several times, and each pondered silently, on our recent trip to visit a beautiful college that is nearly impossible to get to from here. The delays through Chicago, followed by construction delays and re-routing onto rural highways to avoid more such delays, in the dark, with a quickly diminishing phone battery, we drove on, silently wondering, 'Will we ever get there?' As we entered the town where the school is located, Siri instructed, "Continue on Main Street for . . .", and then went silent. Our phone battery was exhausted, as were we. It was 1:30 AM, and we had driven for nine hours, following a route we didn't comprehend, trusting that Siri would get us there. And she did get us close enough that we could do the rest, by simply stopping in the nearest gas station to ask directions for the final half mile of our journey.
When the phone went dead, my daughter and I panicked for a moment. And then, I said, out loud, "Thank you, Siri, and thank you, God, for getting us this far." If the phone had died 20 minutes earlier, we would have literally been in the middle of nowhere, with no way to find our way out. We were grateful beyond words that Siri (and God) had led us as close as she did to our destination.
As I continue to find myself on the desolate, unfamiliar, winding road of life, often wishing I had Siri to tell me which way to turn, and taking me on an alternate route when she sees trouble ahead on the logical one (as when she took us off the freeway which had been reduced to one lane for construction), trusting that she knows how to get me there, with as little incident as can be had, I know I do have my God, and my trust that he knows my ultimate path in life, and that when an alternate route is best, he will provide a clue to take it, and that while there are moments when I fear he has left me, I always find he has gotten me close enough to find the rest of the way on my own. If God is not your compass, know there is something greater than you, guiding your journey, and trust that your path will lead you where you are to go.
Interestingly, after we settled into our bed for the night, my daughter said to me, "Mom, I was really scared." I replied that I was, too. Neither of us had talked of it during the journey. I'd like to say it was because we each had such great faith we would arrive safely; however, I know it was because neither of us wanted to make the other more worried. We were looking out for each other, out of the love we have for each other, which was equally important in our ultimate arrival at our destination.
As you make your life journey, trust that you are on the right path, and be ever thoughtful and grateful toward those who are part of the journey, for both are imperative to be successful and peaceful along the way. We will all get there.
author of "JOY"