God Was My Navigator

I'm 81 years old; my husband and I used to drive anywhere we wanted to--he was Driver and I Navigator. Since he has been gone I drive as little as possible, close to home. This summer I struggled with the opportunity to be a mentor at the All God's Children Camp, the Virginia United Methodist camp for children of incarcerated mothers. The camp was six hours away from Richmond - on the Eastern Shore, across bridges and tunnels and crowded interstate highways. Finally deciding to tackle the trip, I spent a night with grandchildren on the way.

Coming home, I had to drive without spending the night and a sweet co-counselor said,
Let's pray about it.
And she held my hand and asked God to drive home with me.

When I got hot and sleepy, MacDonald's appeared on the left with a cup of hot coffee. Across the first bridge my route came to an intersection; a fireman soliciting money told me to turn to the right, following a new route number. He stopped the Friday afternoon beach traffic (stretched way back there) so I could change lanes. Then I really lost it--around the block looking for the proper route. In a scary part of town an unkempt man told me to drive one block down the street and get on another interstate--
Trust me
he said,
that will keep you away from slow country roads after dark. Trust me.

I dreaded driving west into the sun and watched one little old cloud in the clear sky. It didn't guide me but it did move across the sun. No sunshine in my face! And when it got dark, I saw a route that cut off miles from the way I had come, missing the big city and two small ones.

God held my hand, I know. The last verse at camp told me that
I can do all things through him who strengthens me.
And the verse that greeted me in my children's class on Sunday:
I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

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