Directionally Challenged

You would think that after spending five plus years in Boy Scouts my sense of direction would have been honed to the point that just by instinct I would be able to tell which direction is north. Unfortunately, this is not the case. By the grace of God I was born in the era of GPS and I am able to overcome my DCD (directionally challenged disorder) by relying on my trusty Garmin. (for those of you who know me closely, you know that I am a sucker for name brand items and that is why I mention that my GPS is a Garmin...I guess it's because name brands are fratty...) Ninety five percent of the time I can navigate to just about anywhere as long as I am linked to one of the 24 orbiting satellites that can steer me turn by turn to the place I need to go. It's that five percent of the time that really kills me...

This past weekend I spend some time down in San Antonio hanging out with some good friends, enjoying the hill country air and the excellent Mexican cuisine that San Antonio offers. As much as I love the open road and the beautiful scenery that this part of Texas offers, I saw a little too much of it yesterday. A good buddy of mine, Austin Roberson and I were heading out to my grandpa's lease about 20 miles outside San Antonio and after we had been on the road for about forty minutes something just didn't feel right. We started seeing signs for Laredo and none of the land marks looked familiar, so we pulled over to the side of the road and looked at the map that my grandpa had supplied us with. Sure enough, we missed the Del Rio exit. We had gone 40 miles in the wrong direction, but after studying the map a little closer I plugged in an intersection near the lease into my GPS and we finally started heading in the right direction.

The funny thing about that experience is that all along I had all of the tools that I needed to find my way. I had a map and I had a GPS, but I thought that I could find the place on my own and it cost me. How many times do I do that in my everyday life? I think that I can do it on my own and end up in a place I never thought I would be. Ultimately, the only way that Austin and I found our way to the lease was by taking a second and figuring out where we were and where we needed to be. There is an acronym that I learned in a wilderness survival class a long time ago that sums up the best way to get "un-lost": STOP. Stop, think, observe, plan. No one sets out on a road trip with the intent of finding themselves hopelessly lost, but it happens. We miss exits, become distracted or misread our maps. Finding the way back to the right road can sometimes be difficult, but ultimately that is the only way we get where we need to go.

The same is true in our spiritual lives as well. When we start doing things that go against who we were created to be and they don't feel quite right, STOP. Pause and think about what lead up to the moment when you started feeling a little off. So often our actions lead to something much deeper and many times "this is really about that." In doing this you will probably feel the depth of your fall and that is ok, we have to collect all of the garbage before we can take it to the curb. Observe your surrounding and analyze what you have been filling your head with (what movies you have been watching, who you have been hanging with, where you have been spending your time) and what you have been giving your heart to. Finally, plan, call a friend and let them know what is going on, enlist a group of guys to support you in your quest to be who God created you to be and ultimately, know that although you may be lost right now and you might not be satisfied with you are becoming, Christ has already found you. He found you when he climbed up on the cross and he can handle all of our brokenness and junk. Jesus loves you just as you are, not as you should be. Be found.