The Community Word

When the Creator was giving out directional ability, I apparently was not in line. Consequently, I missed out on even a smidgen of that quality allowing people to determine how to get from point A to point B without going through eight wrong ways. My brain does not comprehend instruction manuals explaining how to assemble, test for problems, hook up or reconfigure said item that is advertised as “assembly simple enough for a child.”

“It’s not easy being me,” I tell family and friends who just don’t get why I don’t get how to advance technologically. Or how to advance on the highways and byways of life. When I’m driving through unfamiliar territory, I’m clenching a paper with detailed directions. If a road is closed or there’s a detour, I start storming Heaven with requests for a sudden surge of smarts. I believe firmly prayers are answered, but God must be interested in showing me lots of scenery before I arrive at my destination.

As a positive thinker, I’ve learned to look for advantages of going through life with my directional dysfunction. There are few. I know more about adaptability than do gifted people. So I wanted to arrive at my destination in 35 minutes. Ah, what’s 20 more minutes here or there? So I was planning to use a newly purchased item today. Tomorrow will be just fine and will give me additional time to check with one of my consultants. A fancy name for a very handy husband and three gifted adult children. Guess which gene pool they inherited.)

I save lots of money because I don’t need the latest invention. I certainly don’t need all the bells and whistles on items I purchase. By the time I learn how to use a handy device, it’s nearly obsolete. I am not tempted to keep up with the Joneses or anyone else because they are out of my league. My claim to fame is I know how to program the VCR and I’m mighty proud of that accomplishment.

When I went to Bradley University as a non-traditional student, translated that means I was old enough to be a mother to most of my fellow students and some of the professors, I chose a writing class for one of my electives. Horror of horrors, we had to use a computer. In the beginning, if I made a mistake, I had to turn the computer off and begin again as I didn’t know how to correct errors. That was a long time ago and I’ve come an infinitely long way.

Such struggles do present unique opportunities. If someone wants to write directions in the most basic language, I’m an excellent test model. If I can comprehend them, they are universally understandable. I know about gratitude. If I arrive at an unfamiliar destination on time and minus heart palpitations, I’m so thankful.

Through the years I have complained vigorously about my lack of directional abilities. My complaining accomplished nothing. In the grand scheme of things, directional competency is not that important. On the bright side, I’ve learned about coping, alternatives, and laughing about mishaps. Those lessons continue to serve me well. And they require no complicated set of directions! Color me thankful!