We men like to think we know the way to somewhere. Even if we don\u2019t know, we like to pretend we do. And dare I suggest that many of us are reluctant to take advice on directions? Perhaps I\u2019m generalising but, of course, there is a solution \u2013 a map!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Wherever I go on holiday I feel the need to have a map. I think it\u2019s to do with being secure, getting my bearings, establishing where I am. Perhaps it\u2019s an ancient call from the hunter-protector within to ensure that the way ahead avoids points of potential ambush whilst passing through places of peaceful refuge. I have a whole box full of maps from a lifetime of going places.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maps are great! They can help you identify remote beaches, rugged coastline, off-shore islands or even buried treasure. Maps are really useful for working out the quickest route to anywhere from somewhere. You can trace the meanderings of rivers, streams and footpaths. You can pinpoint post offices and other timeless features. Most importantly, you can find your way when you are lost.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
These days, many of us make use of digital maps and Sat-Nav. But as clever as these things are to get you from A to B, a man with a massive concertina of a physical map in his hand is clearly an explorer, a pioneer, a master of all his eye can see.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Until, of course, it\u2019s foggy. Then, it\u2019s a different story. Suddenly there\u2019s an insecurity, an inability to intuitively know the way; a reluctance to bluff or speculate; a lostness; a longing perhaps for home and safety. A torch might be helpful but we didn\u2019t think to bring that, and anyway, it\u2019s not that much use in fog \u2013 too much reflection. What we need at that moment is not a map or a torch but a compass, to enable us to press on in the right direction. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\u2019s a relief when the curtain of fog is raised and the sun pierces through. Everything is clearly visible. We know exactly where we are again and we can see where we\u2019re going. No more need to guess or pretend everything\u2019s okay. In the aftermath it\u2019s a small story to tell in the midst of a bigger story of life\u2019s adventure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Psalm 119:105 in The Message says<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018By your words I can see where I\u2019m going. They throw a beam of light on my dark path\u2019.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n What I\u2019ve learned over the years is that we may be able to bluff our way through much of life, pretending we know exactly what we\u2019re doing, and where we\u2019re going, when in reality we\u2019ve lost our way. Without something to keep us on track, without some light on our path helping us avoid the potholes and pitfalls it\u2019s easy to stumble. The good news is that God\u2019s word can help us find our way again, especially if we\u2019re in a fog of confusion or despair. Like a compass, it can keep us going in the right direction to finish the journey and help us find our way back home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Image credit Ali Elliott via Unsplash<\/p>\n