It was one of those mornings. The kind of morning that I should have just stayed in bed. In the first 5-minutes after waking up I managed to almost topple over my entire 80-lb dresser, smashing my brand-new, mercury glass lamp that I worked hard to keep in one piece on the flight from Nashville back to Los Angeles. It was a house-warming gift from my sweet grandma, as I was moving in a new apartment. I attempted to pick up the teeny, sticky, pointed pieces that had fluttered into the open drawers and embedded themselves into the carpet. I only pricked my thumb once.
I managed to leave the house in one piece, and even adorned a bright red hat, as my secret vengeance on the groggy, gray skies. Then 20 minutes into my early morning commute to a spiritual direction session in another city, I get a call from the office saying that my only appointment for the day had been cancelled. I immediately pulled a sharp right off to the nearest exit. So, I could have slept in a couple hours longer and helped heal this lingering cough I have. Oh, well. Complete change of plans. I will be in Long Beach all day today after all.
So I start driving back the 20-minutes to my familiar new hometown, trying to decide how to spend my day. I work from "home" on Tuesday and Thursdays, which means I get to work from a coffee shop of my choosing (my favorite kind of office). I decide to try the new third-wave, trendy coffee shop in the area that my hair stylist raved about. But first, I decide to stop by the bank and deposit my 2-weeks pay so I can put a stopper on the leak of over-draft warnings I'd been receiving. I pull up only to realize that the check is still (hopefully) in the bottom of my other bag.
Getting back into my car, I proceed it downtown and manage to find (free!) street parking. I haul my bags inside, and as I walk in the almost-empty establishment, I get a slighted glance from the barista.
"You should be nice to me, I'm your only potential customer right now, Bub," I think. "Good morning!" I cheerfully offer, as I enter into some forced, friendly banter with this grumpy soul. Just before I was about to pay for my coffee (which I was thrilled to notice was a local roast created by a friend of mine), I remembered to ask if they have Internet. "No, we don't" he stated wryly. "Oh, that's a bummer. Well, I'll just have to go elsewhere and come back when I have a book instead of a computer," I managed to say.
Hauling my books back to my car, I throw them into the passenger seat with one big "heave-ho" and then sit in. Then, I start laughing. I mean, big, hearty chuckles at the universe that I am simply out of step with this morning. "Okay, God. I give. What are YOUR plans for me today?!"
I decide to go to another coffee shop in the area that I enjoy that I know has Internet, plus the space is on a corner and is covered in sweeping bay windows that bring in a cascade of light. It is quite an inviting atmosphere. But when I pull up, I find that the city has installed meters to all the side streets, and I find myself cashless. "Okay, God. If you help me find just ONE quarter in all these bags, I will take it as your sign that this is the spot I'm supposed to be in."
I dig in the crevices of each bag, and find a single quarter in a tiny pocket in my messenger bag. I smile. Okay, now to go in and see if the barista here could somehow charge my card and give me quarters. Seems like a stretch, but I'll try.
I found this barista much more accommodating than the last, and after 15 minutes of fixing the wobbly table, getting water, getting the Internet code, doctoring up my coffee, and arranging my bags around me, I finally took a deep breath.
In a little over an hour, I had managed to make three "wrong turns," yet I finally made it to the spot where I was supposed to be. With all the commuting I do, I often take a wrong turn or go the long way, making three left turns instead of a single right one. Soaking in the beauty of the downtown architecture, and the warmth of the ambiance around me, it makes me think about how many seemingly "wrong" turns I have made lately, and how frustrated I've been at every dead end I've faced. But in hindsight, those seemingly "wrong" turns are increasingly seem to be God's way of redirecting me back towards the path He has for me. So as I'm in a new city, with a new job, and a new roommate (all of which were not part of MY plan), I'm thankful to be in this place, even if it took me several wrong turns to get here.
