Scooping a third helping of green enchiladas on my son’s plate, I tell him, “I wish you would do a power point presentation for me about navigating the Tube in London.”
“Why,” he asked, “it’s really not that difficult Mom.”
He traveled in London for two weeks with H last summer. Perhaps I am a slow learner?
“It’s the north, south, east and west thing that confuses me,” I joke.
On each of the trips we’ve taken to London, my modus operandi for traveling around the city is to follow H with tight focus on his back. It helps that he is 6’4″ and his head towers above a sea of humanity spilling out of train cars, restaurants and theaters.
When my son stopped rolling his eyes over my lack of direction, I pushed my back into the ladders of the chair, crumpled napkin under my empty plate and crossed my feet under the table. After I realized I was still wearing my apron, I look up at H when he interjects, “I can do that. Let’s put the map on the television in the family room and we’ll show you how to navigate the underground.”
We won’t have a car in London. Because public transportation, of course.
Abandoning dishes on the counter, apron draped over the island in the kitchen, I sit down on the couch next to H while Harrison lies on the carpet. Together, we look at all the intricacies of underground transportation on the flat screen. And my intuitive nature is blocked by a tangled web of colored lines and names of train stations.
Concrete details must be mentally downloaded or you can quickly travel to the opposite side of the city before you know it. But I have some good tutors inside my house.
“I think I get it now,” I told them after twenty minutes of bantering back and forth.
Of course, the adventurous storyteller side of me thinks it might be a little fun to get lost. (Just a little)
As I read the story of Paul’s missionary journey in Acts 27, I am reminded that sometimes when we stick to the map and abandon the voice of the Holy Spirit for what seems prudent, we can get into a whole heap of trouble.
Listening to God while we are sojourning to another season is the key to arriving with success.
Mind the Gap isn’t just a warning for those holding train tickets in concrete tunnels but for those of us waiting in transition.
I won’t be sharing my posts on social networking channels daily because who wants to see that much of me, really? If you want to follow our adventure to London subscribe to the blog in the side bar and posts will slide quietly into you inbox. Start from the beginning of the series here.
Excellent reminder, Shelly. “Mind The Gap” You’re in “The Gap” right now, as you wait in The Wilderness. Just as Michelle wrote on the 13th, after wondering what her book proposal rejection was all about. I feel for both of you, as you are in limbo…which isn’t really limbo at all, but a waiting on God. One of the hardest things of all to do. I’m praying for you both as you wait. Love you, Shelly.
Yes, we’ve been empathetic prayer partners for each other Jillie and I’ll speak for both of us when I say we value your intercession during our wilderness season. We need each other, yes?