Knowing the Way

040420 When I was four years old I was able to show people how to get from our house to JCPenny. I didn’t know the street names, but I knew when to get off the highway, and when to turn and which way. This may be more important; I knew how to get back home.

Funny story; when I was five, we had been to JCPenny and other stores at the outdoor mall, it was the mid-sixties okay, and I had seen at least four different “Santa Clauses”. Something just didn’t add up. Then it hit me, and while we were on our way home, I blurted out the truth of how the whole thing worked. My mother almost wrecked the 1963 Chevy Impala trying to reach over the back of the front seat and slap my legs, or whatever she should make contact with and screaming at me, “Shut up!” My older sister started crying and whimpering, “It’s not true! It can’t be true!”

A couple of years ago, I was working security at my church, when a middle age couple approached me and asked for money. They said they had been in town to visit his sister who was in the hospital. They shared they had intended to drive into town, visit, and drive back home. Instead, they said they got lost and turned around several times. So much so, their gas tank was almost empty.

I felt bad for them, and I didn’t give them cash, so I walked across the street and filled up their car. While the man she was living with, it was an impression, went in to the store to do something, I had the opportunity to speak to the woman sitting in the car.

After meeting them I kept getting a feeling, or was hearing from God, that she used to go to church, but because of some bad choices in life had gotten away from the faith of her youth. I squatted down so I could look at her in the face through the driver’s window and said, “I feel like God wants me to give you a message. He wants you to know he misses you.” She started crying. I said, “I feel like you used to go to church when you were a little girl.” She, now wiping tears, mentioned, “My grandma used to take us kids every Sunday.” I encouraged her to, no matter what, with or without him, to go back to church again. I told her I was sure God wouldn’t hold it against her that she had been MIA for so long, because he just wanted to see her come home. Hang out, talk, and get caught up.

Before writing this blog tonight, I got the impression there is one, or perhaps many people who need to go home again. Not just to a “church building”, but to a place where you can learn the true nature of God. How much he loves you. I think the message God had for her is similar to the message he wants you to hear. If you don’t know how to find your way home, ask Him to help you. He will. He knows the way.