I keep getting lost.
Not really lost so much as missing my exit or turning the wrong way down the road.
If you know me at all, this is not surprising news (I am notoriously bad at choosing even which direction to turn down a hallway when leaving a room). I am directionally challenged, but this is my sixth year living in Nashville.
Part of the problem is that I currently live close to but not exactly where I lived two years ago. So the wrong turns are sometimes because I am no longer returning to the same places I used to go to.
The other part of the problem is that I just don’t remember as well as I feel like I should. I feel like I shouldn’t need my GPS or to look at directions if I’m going somewhere I’ve been before, but with more than a year since I last drove around this town, I’ve forgotten.
That’s basically how reentry is going.
I am so thankful to be in a familiar place, a place where I feel like I can pick back up where I’ve left off, where I have friends and favorite things.
But I’m not exactly where I was before and I’m finding myself turned around in who I am and who I was and what I’ve learned. Some of the old ways still fit but I’ve forgotten them and I need a little time to relearn.
I’m grateful for the grace that has been extended as I muddle my way through this transition and I’m learning to extend it to myself and hoping that Tolkien knew what he was talking about when he said that not all those who wander are lost.
Photo via flickr by Michael Nienaltowski.