road signs

By: ewhite422

May 20 2010

Category: Uncategorized

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We hear about the “journey” a lot these days.  I think it is a good metaphor.  “The journey” sounds tame in comparison to “wild ride” or “slippery slope.”   Don’t you think?

Anyway, I always get a kick out of the little “road signs” that appear to me from time to time on my own journey.  You may think it is crazy, but it happens to me a lot.  I can’t explain it, so I just chalk it up to Someone letting me know that I am where I am supposed to be.

One happened a fews years ago when my husband and I had decided to move from Austin to Houston.  (You would NEED great spiritual confirmation for a move like that!)

Anyway, since we had decided to move, my parents resolved to move, too, so that we would be close, since I am an only child and am “in charge” of their care (still working that out).  They had just bought a lot in Conroe, Texas (just 10 minutes from us) and they were planning to build a house.

We drove by the corner lot in their subdivision.  “That looks great!,” I said, “I think you’ll be happy here!”  It did seem like a perfect location for them.

“Now let’s just get this straight…you CANNOT have that ugly brown brick that you have put on your last two houses!”  I said.  It’s that only child thing… I can afford to be demanding.

“Let’s drive around the neighborhood and look at the other houses and what kind of brick they have used.”  I turned the car toward the next block.

While we were looking at brick, I was hearing from my mom about how the brown brick was not so bad.  Suddenly, my mind switched subject and a question came to me, “What is the NAME of your street?”  I asked my mom.

“I don’t KNOW!” she replied.

“HOW can you not KNOW the name of the street you just bought a house on?”  I insisted.  For the record, the closing statements have Lot Number, not street names.

“What if you don’t like the name of your street?”  I asked.  This was not important to her, but it is to me.  I could think of all kinds of names for streets where I would not want to live.

“I’m turning around to see what your street is named,” I announced as I made my way back to her new lot.

“Oh MY GOD!”  I exclaimed, as I pulled up to the stop sign of her new street.  It was named “Christi Lynn Lane.”  My mouth fell open.  My daughter’s name is Christi Lynn.  And MY nickname is “Lane.”

My mother gasped, “I was PRAYING for a sign that we were supposed to move here.”

I took it as a road sign for me, too, since she wouldn’t be moving there, if it weren’t for me.

Here’s one more…

I was sitting in the lobby bar of a hotel in Paris, France 2 weeks ago.  I looked up at the atrium to admire the stained glass dome.  It all came rushing back to me.  I had seen that VERY dome in a travel magazine I had read 20 years ago while I was a missionary in Guadalajara, Mexico.

I remember thinking to myself then, while passing my thoughts to God, “How I wish I could go to Paris…I’d stay at that very hotel.”  Then I switched to blatant request, “God, please, help me go to Paris someday.”

You may not pray about your European vacations, but when you are a missionary, you have no idea how you are going to fulfill your personal dreams.

I sat in that lobby dumbfounded.  I had a deja-vu of the magazine article and my thoughts/prayer, and there I was, in the very place I had asked to be.

Okay.  No, I don’t get everything I ask for.  I still haven’t won the lottery!

But sometimes I do get “road signs” along the way, and I comfort myself that I am where I’m supposed to be.

Does that happen to you?


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