God's GPS

I am in one hellaciously bad mood. Is hellaciously a word? Who knows? The people in my house seem happy; I am not. Why aren’t I? And why do I care so much? I feel like I’ve been on this journey for years and I don’t feel any closer to where I’m supposed to be. Where am I supposed to be? Where do I belong?

A revelation of sorts happened to me earlier: There is no prize. No brass ring. No gold star or coveted blue ribbon. It’s all illusion. You can’t get there from here. I told you I was in a bad mood. This life just keeps us humans occupied. We are supposed to belong to God. He didn’t have to make us. He didn’t need us; we need Him. So why did He make us? What’s the purpose of people? What’s the big plan? I opened the Bible to find an answer, being a firm believer in the open-it-to-a-random-page philosophy, expecting God to speak to me. He never disappoints.

There I was reading along. Knock. Knock. Knock. In came my son with his usual sixth sense when it comes to yours truly. I warned him of the volcano brewing inside – enter at your own risk kind of thing. A lesser man would have retreated. He shut the door and lay down on the bed. And listened.

I don’t know where I fit anymore. I joke about being the lone woman in a world of men, but most times it really sucks. I love these guys. They’re my guys. I’ll always think of them as mine. But they drive me nuts. Not all of them all of the time, but, truthfully, at any given moment if one of my four sons is here at home, chances are, he’s bugging me in some way.

It’s the trash, the dishes, the messes. It’s “You’re never here anymore” or “You’re here too much and I’m never alone.” I understand the paradox; I do. And the cell phones! C’mon. Every waking second?

Am I a fuddy duddy? I’m only 50. But am I? I’m out of the loop. I remember the loop. The invisible barrier between parent and child. I remember it well. There were just certain things that were best left unsaid. Best for all concerned. And now I’m out of the loop. This is their time.

However, I’m not one to sink slowly into the sunset. This evening I asked my dear one, “So, on a scale of 1-10, how weird do you think I am?”

“Which way is weird?”

“10.”

“11,” he says without missing a beat!

And then he says, “You’re not the same as everybody, but you don’t want to be. That’d be boring.”

Oh my gosh. The insight. It’s uncanny. He gets the essence of me. I love him. Thank You, God for turning him to my page.

Yes, life’s a journey. But maybe the prizes serve a purpose after all. Hope. Plain and simple. We human beings need doses of hope along the journey if we’re going to make it to the end. And at the right end of the scale is God.

When we think we can’t get there from here maybe it’s because there’s a turn in the road we can’t see. But God sees the complete picture. He’s holding the roadmap. He knows where we’ve been and where we’re headed. I guess I better put a little more faith in God’s GPS. Look Ma, no hands. God’s at the wheel.