Confidence/Two

[This is the second installment on the theme of confidence. Stay with me; the story will unfold into some pleasant surprises.]  

Hi everyone,

I know that I am in the right place when I feel comfortable enough to get lost.

The other day, while I was in Seattle, I had to go to the bank. After looking up the closest branch location online and then memorizing the directions (which called for making just two turns), I got into my car to make the three-minute trip. Minutes later, I found myself circling the block looking for the bank in the middle of a warehouse district. Either I missed the bank entirely or it really doesn't exist. Either way, I made an instant decision: to go find another branch (without Internet access or a phone number). It was just me and my directional prowess.

OK, I have to boast a little bit: I am really good at directions. How good? Sometimes I tell people how to travel to their own homes. (Much to my dismay, some people do not receive this well.) All I need is to go to a location once and I will remember it forever. Most likely, I will figure out how to get to the same place in multiple ways.

I blame my strong intuition: I tend to make assumptions about where a particular road will go and which streets it will intersect. Sometimes I study maps for broad knowledge of a city, but I rarely retrieve any specific information.

My amazing directional gifts, however, do not necessarily help me when I am trying to find a specific location. For all I knew, I was going in the opposite direction of all of the Seattle bank branches. (It's sort of like the feeling when you pass through Centralia, Washington, and a billboard tells you that the next Burgerville is 25,000 miles away. You take a moment to think, Do I really want to do this?) So as I set out to find the bank, I felt a bit uneasy, a bit uncertain, and even a bit lost.

I chose to stay on main arterial roads. I figured shooting off onto side streets would only prolong my journey and make me more frustrated. At the same time, I made good, decisive turns. At one point, I decided to cross a bridge in order to try looking in a particular neighborhood. I had been in the neighborhood the day before, however, I had entered from another direction. Again, I followed the arterial streets and within minutes, not only did I discover how to meet up with my previous days' journey, but I also found my bank. I shouted "Hallelujah!" outloud and breathed a sigh of relief.

I think life is a lot like this journey: It often feels unsettling, it usually includes few, clear directions, and sometimes you don't get to know if you're headed in the right direction. This is precisely what makes the journey so exciting to me. Because it forces me to engage in the story in real time. It forces me to feel, to think, to pray, to dream, and to change my plans. And it forces me to trust a God who knows, who feels, and who truly cares about my entire story.

When I am lost, then I am found.

A.