Some people have a built in GPS and their unique global positioning system allows them to know where they are at any given time and location.
Not all of us were blessed with that ability. As a matter fact the first day that I started school as a little ol’ just-turned five-year-old I lost my way. Unlike any other mother in our neighborhood our mom had a career and therefore employed housekeepers to manage us three girls until we were old enough to transition into latchkey kids. On that first day of school she drove me the three blocks (if that) to Wilson Elementary. But that first day I walked home alone after school and got lost. None of the houses looked familiar in the very neighborhood where I grew up. I walked alone and wondered if I would ever find my way. I didn’t cry. I was a brave little lost soldier, too overwhelmed for that. Eventually, and seemingly out of nowhere, a very tall girl, probably only in junior high herself, came to my rescue. She walked along with me and helped me to focus attention on looking at each house asking, “is this one yours?“ I was lost in the weeds, literally looking at each shrub and lawn and hedge for something familiar. When at last I saw “home” I bolted across the street and straight through that front door as if on a bullet train suddenly thrust into warp speed. I never looked back to thank my savior and I never saw her again.
Curiously (hmmm) I’ve had a poor sense of direction for most of my adult life until a couple years ago. I can see now from my current adultish vantage point that I had no confidence in my ability to find my way anywhere if I could not find my home from three blocks away.
Today I adore a sign in a public place that proclaims, “YOU ARE HERE.” Thats a comfort to me. Directions are important when we’ve lost our way. We mostly prefer to go it alone, out of pride perhaps, but every once in a while, when we’re really truly lost, we must take the hand of that angel that has been sent to guide us home.