My late husband and I were hunting buddies. After he died, I mostly quit hunting because, as I’m sure many of you know, it’s way more fun to hunt with a buddy.
But
that’s not the story for this morning. The story for this morning is how we got
lost, more specifically, how the one who was always certain she knew where we
were, and which way to go, got turned around and got us completely lost.. because
he trusted and followed her.
See,
he was born and grew up in a city.., and he had a lousy sense of direction. You
could never have told him, “Go east on I-20, then south on Highway 65 to reach
St. Joseph,” because he never knew which way was east and which way south. Do I turn right or left? he would ask.
I,
on the other hand, grew up in the country, and had and still have a good sense
of direction. Tell me that St. Joseph is southeast of Monroe about an hour and
a half’s drive, and I’ll immediately have a mental map of going east on I-20 a
ways and then south on some state highway, the name of which I might need to
look up.
Give
me a map, I have often bragged, and I can get anywhere I want to go, and home
again! It got a little harder when we moved to Louisiana, where everything this
side of the Ouachita is flat and covered with palmettos and… to people from
Pennsylvania, looks exactly alike, indeed, seems to have no distinguishing
features to help you find your way.
