A friend was telling me about a labyrinth she recently walked. The path was created by branches and bushes in the woods, and was enchanting. She felt like the structure was such that it wanted to help you find your way. You just needed to show up and put one foot in front of the other. It is not a problem to solve, but rather a chance to follow. It leads you to the center. How lovely. 

Then there are mazes. They seem more inclined to confuse you, with trick corners, and a mischievous intent. I have taken my children to corn mazes, or is it maizes, where the stalks stand tall enough to block your vision. I recall a guide who sat way above the wanderers, and could offer guidance as needed. The objective was to tickle up against discouragement without plunging into feelings of abandonment. 

The labyrinths and mazes I found online are all pictured from the vantage point of a bird. Such a position makes it simpler to navigate. The escape route is obvious. 

The labyrinth that Theseus had to travel was complex, but he was given a ball of thread to guide him. He unraveled it as he wandered, and used it as a plumb line to bring him back out. 

God mentions that his vision is elevated. In those instances when I feel unsure of which way to turn, it helps to recall that Someone knows exactly where I am. Plus, the slender string that brings me home is the sure belief that God will protect me.