Several years ago my friend, Cathy, began calling me Miss Direction. I could get us anywhere, albeit sometimes by a circuitous route. Still, we always ended up wherever it was we were going.
My husband, who was then my boyfriend, changed the moniker up a little. He started calling me Misdirection because I often took an “alternate route” to our final destination. Nothing had changed. I still was getting us where we were going. It just took a little longer than necessary sometimes.
Personally, I like the ride. I don’t care if it takes me twice as long to get where I’m going. If I’m not stuck in traffic and the tunes are good, then it’s a successful road trip. Unless I need to be somewhere by a certain time. Then the unnecessary twists and turns stress me out and I resemble Road Rage Goofy.
I have found life to be similar. I’ve made choices which made my path a little more complicated than it needed to be, but eventually I got to where I was going. Or sometimes decisions were made for me with the same end result. Then there are those times I’ve been thrown a curve ball and had to figure out how to navigate the obstacles that popped up.
I do believe God has a plan for each one of us and, as long as we keep our eyes on him, he will get us there.
…in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. ~ Proverbs 3:6
But what about when we deviate from the course? I surmise there are two ways we can respond when we find ourselves on an unexpected detour. We can complain about the misdirection or we can accept the change and enjoy the scenery. Either way, we’re still going to get there.
I’ve lived in the Philadelphia suburbs for 10 years. Two times (once before I actually lived here) my family ended up in New Jersey when we were trying to leave the city. It’s an easy mistake to make when you’re not familiar with the area. One wrong turn and Bam! You’re on a bridge crossing the Delaware into New Jersey. Now if I zig when I should zag all I hear is, “Looks like we’re gonna end up in Jersey again!” It doesn’t even matter where we are. I think I heard it while we were in New Mexico last month.
But if we hadn’t ended up on that big bridge we wouldn’t have seen a different view of the beautiful city of Philadelphia or the big ships on the river.
Eleven years ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The timing was horrible and it seemed to be an insurmountable road block. But so much good came out of that terrible circumstance. My kids (10 and 13 at the time) learned a lot about compassion. I saw my husband’s extravagant love and devotion put into practice. I found out just how wonderful our friends were. My belief in God and his faithfulness became knowledge and I lived in his inexplicable peace.
Misdirection or Miss Direction? I think it’s all a matter of perspective. Will you choose to grumble over the wrong turns and obstacles? Or will you choose to make the best of the back roads and decide to enjoy the scenery?