My life has been vastly improved by GPS. I am not fond of being lost and do not savor the challenge of navigating the meandering streets of Philly. John bought me a GPS a few years ago and it has lowered my anxiety level substantially. Then our IPhones caught up to the trend and now I can have two voices reassuring me of the itinerary if I want, which I sometimes do.

Back when I used to pull over to ask a pedestrian for directions it was dicey to hold all of their helpful information in my leaky brain. It was Too Much Information.

"How do you get to I 95?"

"Turn left on Market, then go four blocks, maybe five, and turn right on Third. After you pass the tall building with Organ Donations on the side keep your eyes on the right and make a sharp turn under the overpass. Then make the second left, the first will take you across the bridge and it is a bear getting back so don't make that mistake, and you are home free. Entrance is on the right."

After the second sentence I start to feel like a juggler who has been tossed a fifth ball. I was using all available arms to keep the first four in the air.

But my GPS, or Gypsy as I call her, only gives me one instruction at a time. I can handle that no prob. If I am curious, or bored on a long stretch of turnpike in light traffic, I can switch the mode to overview, and see the big picture. But for most trips I am content to take it piecemeal.

I think God works that way. It may not seem that the simple instruction to Hold Your Tongue Until Your Mood Turns a Corner when John forgets to pick up the mail is getting me where I want to be. Scolding him seems like the better path. But the Message I get is to keep my mouth shut, and wait for further instructions. I suppose if God gave me the low down on all seven hundred forty three steps between me and Wedded Bliss I would be overwhelmed. So I take a deep breath and listen for one increment at a time.

The amazing thing is that if I keep my ears open, He does tell me the next move right when I need it.