“Recalibrating…”

My big brother’s phone GPS is set to a British accent, which I think is pretty cool. 

It’s also appropriate, since he’s quite well traveled due to his job—China, Puerto Rico, Switzerland, Great Britain, and more.  Because of the well known company he represents, it’s important that he is culturally astute. 

Naturally, that also includes the food that is put before you.  This is where the manners our mother taught us comes into play, because Jim says there are three kinds of food: Normal, Risque, and Out There.

These culinary divisions have developed and sharpened during his international wanderings since not everyone eats hamburgers and French fries.  In fact, some of the cuisine presented to him for consumption was still alive. Which means that when he comes to visit my house, eating my “health” food actually now belongs in the “normal” category!  (Amazing what a little perspective does!)

So back to the GPS.  I haven’t really become proficient with mine yet.  In a town our size, where locations are still designated by the likes of “over where the old Aldi’s store used to be”, GPS is certainly not necessary.  Having grown up without it, (paper maps from AAA, stopping to ask for directions—me, not Bob), it’s just another distraction in the car.  Not that aren’t times they can certainly come in handy and save some time.

Like when you’re heading blithely down the highway to Missouri, and see a big sign that says something like:

That’s where a little mechanical voice comes in handy: “Recalibrating…”

I’ve had come serious recalibrations of late.  Some are things I plan for, some not.  Even the planned ones have unexpected twists and turns in the road, forks and off ramps of choices come up quickly and threaten to cause anxiety and confusion in an otherwise well-planned trip.  Anything from the life-threatening illness of a loved one, or upcoming professional retirement to the flat tire before church or the surprise birthday party.  Or dealing with my own failures as well as my own successes (both of which are big character challenges.) 

Good and bad, my life is full of recalibrations, which calls for resiliency. 

Thankfully, (that is, thanks to Jesus’ work), I now have within me an implanted GPS (God’s Personal Spirit).  He’s constantly tracking everywhere I go, and His eye is constantly on me:

“You know when I sit down or stand up.
    You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.
You see me when I travel
    and when I rest at home.
    You know everything I do…

If I go up to heaven, you are there;
    if I go down to the grave, you are there.
If I ride the wings of the morning,
    if I dwell by the farthest oceans,
even there your hand will guide me,
    and your strength will support me.” 

And as if that weren’t enough:

“Your own ears will hear him.
    Right behind you a voice will say,
‘This is the way you should go,’
    whether to the right or to the left.”

Now, lest I feel that He’s giving me directions, but maybe my car is out of gas (we all know how that feels—just ask any mother of a two-year-old…):

“For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.” 

Well then. Guess I’ll buckle in and grab the steering wheel.

Psalm 139:2-3, 8-10; Isaiah 30:21; Philippians 4:13 Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.