DRIVING through unknown streets, with the trusty navigator at the ready, had me thinking how handy its usage is for becoming accustomed to street names.
“Oh there you go,” I thought, “That’s the name of that street, I’ll (try to) remember for future reference.”
It didn’t take long for the route in question to be somewhat familiar, taking that way a number of times.
Considering our Lenten pathway, of which we have navigated a number of weeks and Sundays by now, we too have known where we’ve been heading – the somewhat predictable themes of Lent have re-presented in their customary penitential and invitatory form.
How’ve you been travelling?
Has it been “the same old, same old” kind of roadway, familiar and predictable but at the same time, comforting?
Has it been new and surprising, with unusual twists, as the Lord God has navigated towards greater holiness and away from sin, presumably?
Have there been roadblocks or U-turns?
I admit to a feeling of newness this Lent.
That’s mostly because our Miss Newly 18, as I penned last column, has gone away from the nest, and on her own literal Lenten journey.
From afar, she’s delighting in the Mass, and that still brings me parental joy.
Having said that, Miss Newly 18 returned home on a Friday in Lent, in time for Mass, and there we motored while we could – precious.
It was precious because it’s rarer and rarer these days to be physically together for the sharing of the Eucharist and she can now access a Sunday evening Mass, and has tended to do so, reconnecting with our former parish community.
Hello to those who might be reading this who’ve made her extra welcome, and thank you.
You are part of the signage on her roadway, the type of signs that say not only “Welcome” but also “Entry” and “Thank you for visiting, please come again.”
So what of her new roadway?
She jokes about the “forced adult-ing”, a new catch phrase.
“Mum, you’d be so proud of my adulting today,” she’s said more often than not of late.
The adulting she’s speaking of are domestic chores that are completely her own and being responsible for safe driving especially, amid her new city postcode.
It’s a developing awareness and confidence that was met, I hesitantly admit, to nervously locking her keys in the car, at the start of her city stay, while she was visiting Nudgee cemetery.
Miss Newly 18 was quite aghast at the blunder, calling me in a panic that “something would happen” to the car.
I assured her, of all the places the car could be left at 4pm on a weekday afternoon, the cemetery would be as “safe as houses” – well, the kind of houses that are spiritually solid, at the very least.
That issue was resolved, thanks to Nudgee Cemetery Manager and close friend, David Molloy, coming to the rescue of Miss Newly 18, who will now be called Miss Damsel in Some Automotive Distress, and a local Banyo family who are also worth their collective weight in gold.
Thanks be to God, her roadway issues were resolved that day and she was back on the straight and sometimes narrow.
That was, of course, until a tyre blew on the Brisbane inner city bypass not two weeks after and Miss Damsel in Some Automotive Distress was newly wearing her crown.
All the while, help was at hand, and prayer was a constant, especially from my end, prayers of gratitude especially.
Miss Damsel in Some Automotive Distress returned to the city today, from visiting us rurally, and now as I write, confirmed the safe return, more gratitude.
I’m reminded of the scripture to, “Pray without ceasing” (1 Thess 5:16-18) and it strikes me that as parents, and no doubt, as grandparents, we’re called to do exactly this.
There’s been many a Hail Mary to accompany my navigation and motoring, no matter the Church’s Season.
And just think, it wasn’t that long ago we had the trusty Refidex to negotiate streets and through-ways; in fact, I distinctly remember the highly prioritised task of buying one, along with my first car.
It was a necessary accessory that has been long replaced by the navigation map Apps and systems we know too well.
As much as I appreciate the help to navigate, and the polite way the voice does so, gently suggesting a “Proceed to the route” if a wrong turn is made, arriving at the destination, safe and sound, is the best possible outcome.
On one rain-laden mountain-side journey home with my three children, I held my breath for at least three decades.
More “praying without ceasing” and a knowing of God as the ultimate navigator.
