Not the way I would have taken

Early in the day last week, I headed out for a needed oil change.  I knew how to get there as I had taken that route so many times before.  But wary of possible traffic delays at that early hour, I entered the address into my GPS, even as I was about to turn left at the light. 

The result surprised me.  Turn right, the voice directed.  Why would I want to do that?  That's not the way I would have taken.  Turn right, the voice insisted.  It must be confused, I thought.  

But what if it was correct? 

So I turned right, against my better judgment, as if to prove my rightness to a digital voice. 

It just didn't seem accurate.  I passed over a bridge about a half mile down the road, turn left, into a residential area.  And then two miles later, turn right.  And then an immediate left.  

Where in the world was I headed?  I glanced at the little postage stamp-sized map.  It made no sense at all to me.  But sometimes that is not the point.  Just trust me, I felt the voice was trying to say.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had never been so far on this particular winding road.  I drove past historic houses and alongside fields and over rivers and creeks, past an idyllic White Oak Farm and an ancient house called Two Rivers, built in 1820, the sign said.  I was no longer thinking about being on time for an oil change, nor the crazy instructions from a seemingly misguided directional device.  I had no thought of wishing I was on the interstate, no desire to be on the four-lane with insufferable traffic lights and fast food offerings.

It was no longer about the fastest route, or even a short cut. 

I felt like I was trespassing, drawn into the wonder of the rich rolling countryside around me, transported into another time zone,  soaking in the beauty of a land that has looked spectacularly the same for hundreds of years, excluding the ribbon of asphalt road that brought me here. Not just ordinary fields, because ordinary does not appear in God's dictionary. Nothing barren at all that God does not redeem. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As J. R. R. Tolkien once observed, "Not all who wander are lost." We may not be sure where we are, but God does. "C'mon, there is something I want to show you."

It was not the way I would have taken.  But oh, the panoramas I would have missed.  And oh, the vistas I miss everyday, all around me. If I only paid attention.  If I am only willing.  If I only listen and look.

We just need to follow God that way.  Trust Me in this.

 

Commit your way to the LORD,

trust in Him,

and He will act.

                 Psalm 37. 5

 

Commit your day to the LORD,

trust in Him,

               and wow.