In 1996, when I was nineteen years old, I left home to attend a Christian college about 100 miles away. At first, it felt more like 1,000 miles because I had never been away from home for more than a week at summer camp. That first semester, I drove home almost every weekend. By the second semester, I hardly went home at all.
That very first weekend, I had no money and only half a tank of gas. Still, I felt confident I had enough to make it home. Mom would feed me, and Dad would fill my tank. So, I cranked up my Jesus Freak CD and took off in my little 1992 Geo Metro named Wilma.
As I approached the exit for the highway to my hometown, I found it blocked off for construction. I drove along the service road and spotted another highway that, in my mind, had to lead home. Even though I had never taken it before, I thought it was the right way.
I was wrong.
Forty-five minutes later, I realized I was completely lost. I pulled into a gas station and asked the attendant for directions. She pulled out an atlas and showed me where I was, 70 miles off course. I did not have enough gas to make it home, and with no money, I did the only thing I knew to do: I called Dad collect from a pay phone and cried.
While I was still trying to explain through my sobs, I felt a tap on my shoulder. The attendant stood there and said, “I would like to put gas in your car so you can get home.”
“Really?” I asked through tears.
“Yes. If it was one of my granddaughters, I would hope someone would do that for them.”
I thanked her over and over, wrote down her name and address so I could send her a check later, and followed her directions back home. Less than two hours later, I pulled into my driveway safe and sound.
Lessons Learned
I did learn some practical lessons that day: never start a road trip with no money and only half a tank of gas, and never take a random highway unless you are certain it will get you where you need to go. But with time, I began to see that what happened that day was much more than a naïve college kid learning life lessons.
Fingerprints of Grace
When I look back now, I see God’s fingerprints all over that story. I went the wrong way, and He graciously provided a way home. I could have pulled into any gas station, but God directed me to the one with a woman He already knew would help me. That day, she became His hands and feet, showing love and compassion to a stranger.
If you have gone the wrong way in life and you long to come home, I want you to know that Jesus is as close as the mention of His name. He is not mad at you. He is not holding a grudge. He loves you and wants to make your paths straight (Proverbs 3:6).
Maybe I am just the gas station attendant pointing you toward home today. Or maybe God has already sent others across your path to remind you. Either way, He is waiting for you with open arms.
