“When you are giving me directions, please do not use words like South.” This funny quip, artistically displayed on a drink coaster, caught my attention when out shopping. It describes me perfectly. My name is Nicole Johnson and I am directionally challenged. It’s a pretty severe case, quite possibly one of the worst out there. My husband will tell me to, “turn left” and immediately follow with, “your other left”. 

Never Eat Shredded Wheat; I do know the foundational setup of our universe – that up is North (never), right is East (eat), down is South (shredded) and left is west (wheat). I’m guessing I learned that at some point in elementary school, but the basics never translated to any sort of useful comprehension. Maps absolutely stump me; it’s like trying to read a book in a foreign language.There are literally synapses in my brain that fail to fire when someone is trying to give me directions. I hear words like east and west, directives to go strange distances like 500 feet, and my brain is like a garage door, slowly closing all access to understanding.

I’m fascinated by people who have good direction sense. My husband could find his way from one end of this country to the other and never feel the paralyzing fear of being lost. I can’t imagine what that’s like. Google maps has definitely been a game changer for me, not only because I have someone literally telling me where and when to turn, but also because this nice person who lives in the app always knows how to turn me around when I defy all odds and get lost even with her instructions. I love that she never loses patience with me. She just stays true and simply helps me recalculate until I’m back on track.

“And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way, walk in it, when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.” Isaiah 30:21

I often wonder how people navigate this complex and layered journey of life without faith. I imagine some people hear words like pray and sacrifice, directives to do strange things like trust and surrender, and they are quick to close their hearts to the possibilities that lay down what seems like such an uncertain path. I would guess people who choose not to ascribe to any sort of doctrine are fascinated with those of us who place their whole lives in God’s hands and never let on to the potentially paralyzing panic of handing over all control. I can certainly understand that. Trying to make sense of faith can often feel like deciphering a foreign language. It’s easier to do what you know, depend on what is concrete and tangible and hope for the best.

As someone who was raised Catholic, faith in God is as foundational as the truth that we should Never Eat Shredded Wheat – His presence and dependability as unchanging as the coordinates that give order and boundaries to this big circle we live on. I count on His direction on a daily, often moment-to-moment basis and am grateful He never tires of helping me recalculate when I need some redirecting (which is often I’m afraid). 

The tricky thing about finding your way is, sometimes, we have to first recognize we are lost. The vulnerability in that recognition too often keeps us clothed in the lie that we are enough all on our own. We are standing on one side of the garage door, He on the other and we are the only ones with the opener. The incredible thing is He will stand there, unmoving and hopeful, excited and expectant, until we are courageous enough to press the button. And when we do, He never asks what took us so long, but rather greets us with a welcome unlike any other, gently reaching for us with one hand and leading our way with the other.