Listen to the Navigator

Even though I’ve lived in New York City, I don’t like cities that much. And I like to drive in and around them even less. I much prefer to drive way around them, not just the interstates that circle around them. Usually those circles are like over-sized roller coasters. (I don’t like those either.)

Several years ago my husband and I went north to take in Lake Michigan. To do that we had to circumvent a city of significant size. Not my favorite thing. In addition to that stress, when we got there, it was pouring rain. Visibility was poor, and traffic zipped along at an alarming rate (at least to me).

My husband, who was navigating for us, informed me that 96 West was our next connection. My problem was that all I saw in the rain and zipping as 196 West.

“That’s it, isn’t it? 196 West, right?” I tried to insist.

“No, 96 West.” He said firmly.

But where was the sign for 96 West? It wasn’t showing up. Had I missed it? Why did there have to be two roads with such similar numbers and in the rain with all the zipping?

“96 West,” my husband kept saying.

Skeptical, I kept driving and searching for 96 West.

And, at last, there it was! 96 West, just like the navigator promised. Off we went in the right direction. 96 West was exactly where it was supposed to be, and at the right time we took that road.

If I had gone off onto 196 West, we could have gotten to our destination. It would have taken longer, though, and complicated our trip.

Life is like this sometimes. Prayer is like this sometimes. I keep waiting for the turn, the sign that there’s a change coming.

“Where is it, Lord? Where’s the turn I’m supposed to make?”

“Where’s the answer to prayer I’ve been waiting for for it seems like a very long time?”

Sometimes visibility isn’t very good. It’s not clear how to proceed—slow, fast, stop. What about all those people zipping along beside me with a clear understanding of what to do or where to go? What about all the people who have had answers to their prayers, and I’m still, still waiting?

I suppose I could insist that the way I think is best is best. I’ve tried that before. I know better from experience. Not a good idea.

In spite of traveling through life with limited visibility, I prefer the Navigator—Jesus—insisting patiently to wait for the correct exit-turn. The wrong ones lead to delays and often regret. It’s not without frustrations or anxiety. That’s because I’m still learning to trust the Navigator and to travel by faith in the Navigator and not what I see. And even though the exits might not be exactly where I expected, I have learned enough about the Navigator to know that he always knows the right exits. Always.

So, on your journey I highly recommend the Navigator of Life for directions. No matter what happens, he knows the road map and ultimately the way Home.