God and the GPS
It was a glorious autumn day. I was bursting with anticipation as I headed to the Holy Cross Monastery on the banks of the Hudson River in New York for a women’s retreat. What had started as a solo retreat nine years ago morphed into an annual spiritual event interrupted only once by the Covid-19 pandemic. I looked forward to spiritual renewal and the fellowship of women I hadn’t seen in two years.
This time I was not departing from my home, but from my doctor’s office in Princeton, New Jersey. Unsure of the route, I tapped the address into my GPS to show me the best way there. Although I’d been to the monastery many times before, a little voice nudged me to keep the GPS on, even after reaching known territory.
On the New York State Thruway, a flashing road sign announced a 30-minute delay.
Less than a mile later, another flashing sign signaled a burning vehicle eight miles ahead. The road instantly turned into a parking lot, and I was trapped in stop-and-go traffic. A line of motionless cars zigzagged the hills as far as the eye could see.
The GPS commanded me to get off at the next exit a half mile ahead. On previous trips, the GPS suggested I take that same exit, but I always ignored it, choosing instead the most direct route. This time, I obeyed the GPS long before I reached the burning vehicle.
The Scenic Route
What followed amazed me. The GPS guided me through a scenic route dotted with old farms and weathered barns, weaving in and out of roads lined with trees crowned by flaming red, yellow, and orange leaves. Absorbed by the stunning colors, I missed my next turn.
Instead of making a U-turn, I allowed the GPS to reroute the way. The GPS, however, steered me away from the main road and led me through a long maze of residential streets in a private development. I feared I’d lost my way and rejoiced when I finally joined the thruway and reached my usual exit. Only 20 minutes left to go!
But another surprise awaited me. Once off the exit, the GPS directed me to turn right, instead of the usual left turn onto Route 9 West. How could that be? I wondered, befuddled. Nonetheless, I chose to trust the GPS, just as I had trusted it to spare me from eight miles of stop-and-go traffic earlier. Inexplicably, several turns later, familiar landmarks began to appear one by one, along with the certainty that I would arrive at my retreat on time.
My job is to let go and let God, then believe I will arrive safely. Trusting God, I am confident I’m in the right place at the right time—even when I miss my turn and fear I’m heading the wrong way.
Willingness to Trust
As I pulled into the monastery’s parking lot, I realized that the efficacy of the GPS depends not solely on the device’s accuracy but also on my willingness to trust it.
God is my GPS. God within helps me reach my journey’s end and offers the best way to get there.
My job is to let go and let God, then believe I will arrive safely. Trusting God, I am confident I’m in the right place at the right time—even when I miss my turn and fear I’m heading the wrong way.
I have carried the experience of trusting the GPS with me. My life journey after the retreat led to more roadblocks and detours as I faced health challenges and grieved the loss of people I loved. Now, I am struggling with ambivalence as I phase out my legal career to pursue writing, my true passion.
Inspired by my trip to the monastery, I walk in faith, knowing God within, my GPS, divinely guides me to my highest good, revealing my path every step of the way.
This article first appeared in Daily Word magazine.