Direction

I’ve been really struggling with a personal situation during the past week. I’ve spent a lot of time alone (and too much time on my couch!), tiptoeing near the fragile edge of depression.

I’ve been asking for direction. Every day. 

On Tuesday, my butterfly came back- a sign that I had hoped to get and that was so blatantly, in my face, there was no denying it.

Today, I willed myself to go to church – something I have not done in years. I was craving a little inspiration and felt like God was pushing me in that direction. I had planned to attend the church where my son goes to Kindergarten and headed out to meet my friend there.

God had other plans.

I was on the phone with my sister, not really paying attention to where I was driving and realized I had missed a turn. I had no clue where I was, so I pulled over to type the church’s name into my phone’s GPS.

I typed in the first few letters, selected the church that auto-populated and started driving.

And driving.

Did it seem like I was driving too far? Absolutely, But, because I am the most directionally-challenged woman on this planet, I trusted my GPS over my internal (lack of) direction sense.

After 25 minutes, I pulled into church- the wrong church (same name though!).

I called my friend who I was supposed to meet to explain that I’m now at a church in a different county (again, same name!!). I started to say that I was going to be very late to meet her, then stopped, mid-sentence. 

“I’m gonna go in.”

Something told me to stay- that this is exactly where I was meant to be today.

I entered through the heavy double doors to find a service already in service and immediately noticed that everyone around me was taking notes. I didn’t have a pen. 

I looked to my left to find a pen in the seat. The only pen in the row.

That’s god.

The sermon hit hard. I’ll never know what the pastor spoke on at the church that I had set out to attend, but I know that the sermon I got was the one I was supposed to hear. God drove me there because I was supposed to be there.

I’m grateful for the direction that could only have worked on someone with my horrible sense of direction. Anyone else would have realized that something wasn’t right and turned back.

I followed it. I trusted it. 

I drove to a different county, thinking that I was driving to the right place.

Turns out, I did end up at the right place. I was right where I was supposed to be, because I asked for direction.