When GPS gets it wrong

I am a daily user of my Global Positioning System, or GPS as we all know it. It's one of the greatest navigational tools of our generation. I rarely leave my apartment without first entering in my destination. As a substitute teacher in Savannah, I am frequently headed to an assignment to which I've never been, so getting clear directions is a necessity.

Over a year ago I became a wazer, using the popular community app Waze which allows its members to report a variety of traffic issues in real time.   Waze will give me my ETA; it tells me how fast traffic is moving and will show me alternate routes if I want them.  Ok,  I admit I am a little competitive.  The more you report and drive the more points you get and the higher your rank.  I can always count on two or three vehicles stopped on the side of the road. You can report wrecks, construction, and weather. It even includes the controversial feature of cop sightings.

However, I found out early on that Waze, and GPS for that matter, is not entirely perfect or accurate all the time. While I was living in Laurinburg, NC, I had to drive to Charlotte to see a neurologist. No problem, I thought, because I have GPS, and since I was unfamiliar with the area, I faithfully followed the path set up on my Waze. Dutifully, I got off the highway, going through countryside, up and down hills, winding roads, etc. When I looked at Waze on my phone to be sure I was still going in the right direction, lo and behold, the words plainly visible in red say "No GPS available, searching for networks" and I think I'm screwed.  I panic but keep going and thank God, I finally saw signs to Charlotte and eventually arrived.  After my appointment, I checked directions and GPS gave me a totally different way to go home which ended up being shorter.

To this day, I still do not know why Waze sent me off the highway, but it made me more cautious about following GPS. It occurred to me that each of us were created with our own GPS. It's not a system that tells where on the globe we are, but where we are in relation to God. In my youth, it seemed to be easier staying on the right path. My GPS aligned more easily to Gods plan for my life. The problem with trusting my internal GPS is that it is imperfect and often goes awry.

In the last few years I  "got off the highway" and was driving down some treacherous roads. Unfortunately, others got hurt in the process. I was staring at that painfully vivid message, "no GPS available, searching for networks."  Most of the time, when you find yourself driving around lost, the best thing to do is to stop, get your bearings and look for something familiar. GPS will not take you back to the beginning of your trip. It starts you at your current location.

God does the same. God finds you at your current location and leads you back to the right path. If it were up to my own GPS, perhaps I would still be out there wandering around looking for signs, or perhaps not even bothering to check. But God sought ME, and began to woo me back to Him.  There is only one truly perfect GPS and that is God's Planning System.

Scars Are Beautiful

A little more than 16 years ago, I had surgery to remove a malignant tumor in my chest cavity.  The surgery was essential. Yet I was left with a visible scar that ran the entire length of my sternum. For years, I hated my scar and spent many nights weeping in self-pity. A cortisone shot, which felt like liquid fire at the time, eased the puffy redness and yet I glared at the white scar with loathing and disgust.

I hid the scar under high neck blouses and scarves lest others stare in pity or worse, ask me what happened; and I would have to explain for the hundredth time what a thymus gland was, and that I had cancer, and yes, had radiation treatments.  People are naturally sympathetic yet predictably curious.  A simple answer was never enough.

And then one day something changed. I was leaving the doctors office after a follow-up appointment, one of many, when a grey-haired gentleman greeted me with words I will never forget. "I see you're a member of the zipper club," he told me. He obviously could tell I was puzzled for he pointed to his chest. I smiled and responded, "yes, I am."  Although a thymectomy is different from heart surgery, the scars are identical.

Some time after this exchange, I began to wear regular clothes again, no longer hiding what I had felt so long was an ugly deformity. I came to realize that I was a part of a special group of people who had gone through a tremendous struggle and had miraculously survived; and we happen to wear medals of achievement on our chests.

There is an abundance of stories about people who are coming to grips with scars; calendars of people that proudly display them, tattoo art intended to cover them, and even jewelry that replicate them. People wth physical deformities can regain a sense of normality. But not all scars are visible.

There are those walking around with emotional scars far greater than any physical flaw. Sadly these scars are easier to hide. Those who are afflicted walk in fear that someone will notice and call them out for being less than human. Yet who among us has not at some time in our lives grasped at anonymity in order to appear normal. Like it or not, we all have a responsibility to reach out to others, to be a true friend, so that all of us may feel at peace with who we are, scars and all.

In a way, scars are meant to be celebrated. Scars are proof that we are survivors. Those things that caused our wounds didn't get the best of us. And being "the scarred ones" helps us to identify with the One who was scarred for us. Do you not think that we will recognize our LORD by HIS scars? Recall the words of the B.B. McKinney hymn, "place your hand in the nail-scarred hand" and imagine yourself walking hand-in-hand with the One who sees what we try so diligently to hide.