Thursday, December 14, 2017

Those Extraordinary Ordinary Moments

He dances and lifts his toddler hands as he watches his favorite worship band.  Each day the words that flow from his mouth while he sings are easier to understand. Extraordinary ordinary.

The little girl who gave her grief for weeks is now one of her "favorite best friends." Sweet, second-grade toothless smiles shine bright when they're together. Extraordinary ordinary.

He works so hard to provide well for our family and wanted to replace our 18" TV that was starting to lose color but it was super low on our priority list. Someone who didn't know his wish decided to gift us a 48" TV in great condition.  Extraordinary ordinary.

He was in tears because his prized football from his daddy was accidentally thrown on the roof of the school and there seemed to be no way to get it down.  Sweet friends who are like family found a way and celebrated in our sweet boy's joy.  Extraordinary ordinary.

I was cold and cranky this morning but texted some precious sisters in Christ and together we commiserated and laughed. Suddenly my load felt a little lighter.  Extraordinary ordinary.

Life is full of extraordinary ordnaries:

Young cousins who count down until the next time they see each other.

Sisters who find a way to communicate daily even through complicated schedules.

A husband who is more patient than his wife ever deserves.

A grandparent who delays surgery to make sure he can share Christmas with his grandkids.

Children who often teach their parents more than we teach them.

Neighbors who always make sure to wave.

Friends who check in often.

Playdates.

Family dinners after a long day.

Laughter that fills a house that love has made a home.

Extraordinary ordinary.  It infiltrates our lives.  Yet, for this stubborn, feisty, and a little weary human, it's sometimes easy to look past the daily blessings and focus on the thoughts that seem to hinder me from praising God.  But He is so loving.  When I seek Him, I find Him.  When I look around me, I can see His hand in every detail.  I don't need grandios events to know He is with me.  Suddenly the "darkness" that once flooded my mind is filled with the light of His goodness.  And, while I am not sure who first coined this term, this, my friends, is extraordinary ordinary.



Friday, October 27, 2017

The Fall Birthday

The baby we lost almost three and a half years ago would have been born this week.  While lost in thoughts of the three-year-old Fall birthday party that will never be, I watched my toddler who was lost in a world of bubbles and wonder.  If not for that fateful day in May when God allowed the heart that beat inside of me for 84 days to suddenly stop, this boy wouldn't be.  How I long to hold that sweet one, but then I wouldn't know the joy of a little guy who will stop in the middle of a temper tantrum to comfort someone if they pretend their crying.  I desire so much to get to hold the hand that we saw waving to us during an ultrasound only days before we miscarried, but then I wouldn't know the feeling of holding my smallest buddy's hand as we take our daily walk around our neighborhood.  I always wanted an Autumn baby, but then I wouldn't get to plan an Easter egg hunt on the birthday of our boy who reminds us daily of the new life that comes with Spring.  I wish to see our three-year-old playing in the yard with our other children, but then I wouldn't see our curly-haired tot looking mischievously at his siblings as he tries to ride his tricycle into the road.  I wonder what our family pictures would look like with a baby who was born in late October, but our family pictures are so special with the baby born in the middle of April. Our family is complete...and yet, it'll never be fully complete.  I will always be the mama of more than three children...it's just that most people who see our kids pile out of our minivan will never know that.

Grieving for a lost baby can all be a bit too much to take in, which is why I finally realized this:  There's no point in wondering why anymore.  It just is.  We'll never know why God chose us to walk this road.  Why He chose our family story to hold an indescribable pain that 1 in 4 families can understand.  We don't feel we should have been spared from this journey. Why should we have been?  We just wish it was different sometimes. Like when our 7-year-old questions why she can't have that sibling here with her.  Or when thoughts of the little life gone way too soon takes us by surprise. Or when our six-year-old - who almost never speaks of his sibling in Heaven -  randomly said yesterday that he wants to see the stone where "Izzy" (their name for the baby) was buried.  There is no stone.  No place that "she's" buried. That hurts.  Deeply.

However, I truly believe that some of life's greatest lessons and some of our most "prized" pieces of wisdom often come at great cost.  It's almost never fun in the process.  It's not fun now.  Yet, if it wasn't for this loss, I wouldn't relate to the suffering of so many women.  Like the grief of a precious friend who is remembering the loss she experienced on the very day that the doctor had said I would most likely give birth to the one we lost.  Why people release balloons for children they never got to really know.  That it's OK to say nothing "encouraging" when someone loses a child and only offer prayers.  I wouldn't understand that prayer needs to be said for those who long to hold their babies more in the quiet, nighttime hours than in the lively, daylight hours.  I wouldn't know the loneliness that comes with grieving for the one you never got to hold.  The desire to have something more than just a pregnancy test or ultrasound picture of the one you will always love but never get to see.

So this weekend I'll release two balloons with no fanfare :  One for our precious gift from God and one for the babies that were taken far too soon from family members and friends of ours.  We'll eat a birthday cupcake.  I'll pray that maybe for a second God will let our little one hear me say, "I love you."  And as my toddler enjoys his bubbles, I'll thank God for the miracle of life.  For the gifts He gives and the gifts He takes away.  For how He turns pain into understanding.  Sorrow into joy.  I'll never "get over" this loss but it definitely looks different now than it did at first.  God has answered this mama's prayer to turn this verse into reality and my awe and wonder of Him bubbles forth:

 He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. - 2 Corinthians 1:4

Happy Birthday, Izzy!  You are cherished and loved for always.



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Monday, September 18, 2017

Be A Gideon

"Hi!  Hi!  Hi!  Hi!"  My toddler exclaimed just waiting for a reply.

The elderly man looked sad as he pointed to the hole in his throat and mouthed the words, "I can't talk." 

My sweet Gideon looked perplexed for about 2 seconds.  Then he walked over to the man, smiled and returned his wave.  I watched as he connected with his newfound buddy.  He never muttered another word, but instead would point to objects that he wanted the gentleman to see:  fliers with football players on them, the TV with Bubble Guppies on it, his water bottle, his shoes, the man's shoes, etc. The sweet man was so kind to smile and nod and look excited over everything that Gideon was showing him. The more he smiled, the more my Gideon beamed.  Far too soon, we were told our car was finished with its oil change.  As we began to exit the building, Gideon waved good-bye, walked out of the door, then backed up and looked at the man one more time through a glass door.  As the man tapped the door, Gideon held his hand on the other side right up to the man's hand...the only thing in between them was a few inches of glass.  The man looked touched and I grew teary-eyed as the lady behind the counter said through tears, "Well, Mr. Smith*, it looks like you've made a friend for life."  (*I can't actually remember his real last name).

It was a beautiful exchange made possible by a little boy who was willing to put aside how he normally communicates to show empathy with a man whose voice no longer remained.  He didn't ask why he couldn't speak.  He didn't gasp or point or laugh.  He didn't shy away from him.  He just noticed and responded with love.  Maybe it's because he can understand on some level.  Maybe in that man, he saw himself.  Gideon is somewhat behind on his speech skills.  He processes much more than he says, and sometimes he grows so frustrated trying to communicate what it is he wants me to know. And while he didn't know the reason the man was in the position he was in, it didn't matter.  He met him where he was at and together they shared a moment so beautiful that even strangers cried.

We all have stories.  We all have circumstances that have brought us to where we are.  In a society where pointing out differences is at an all time high, can we be a Gideon?  I don't mean the Gideons who make the Bibles.  I'm sure they're great, but I mean can we be like my son, Gideon?  Can we just take the time to meet others where they are at with no questions asked?  Can we love on them? Can we pray for them when they aren't even aware?  Can we put aside our well-meaning advice and just listen if they want us to?   Can we show compassion?  Can we look inside ourselves and find that point of connection with others?

Will you be a Gideon this week for my boy who struggles to say what he needs to with his mouth but speaks volumes through his heart?  Be a Gideon.  It'll make the world a little brighter for all.

"Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see."


Friday, September 1, 2017

I'm Glad God Made You This Way!

"Why did God have to make me this way?!"  My 7-year-old exclaimed following a frustrating experience at school.

I didn't respond right away.  I couldn't.  I was so choked up that I knew my words would sound incoherent.  I was thankful that I was driving and she couldn't see the tears that were rolling down my face.

How do you explain to a little girl - who is beautiful in every way - that she is perfect just the way she is?  That she doesn't need to be angry that God allows her to have white splotches on her legs and feet because of  a minor, yet untreatable skin condition?  How can I ensure that the confidence she has now won't be knocked down by children who are just trying to figure out their own place in life? How do I help her to rise above it?

As she waited for a response, I prayed that God would give me the words.  Thankfully, she got distracted by something her youngest brother did that was just "so cute."  I smiled as laughter filled the very mouth that had just spoken such discouraging words.

So, to my precious daughter...this is my response:

Dear Sweet Girl,

Do you know what makes you beautiful?

 It's your eyes.  They sparkle with life.  With passion.  With love.  You use those eyes to see injustices in this world so that you can try to figure out a way to help.  You use them to see the lonely one in class who needs a friend.  You use them to see when others need a hand so that you can pitch in.  You use them to see the beauty in this world...in things that this mama would never notice if you didn't first point them out.

It's your mouth.  Those beautiful lips sing praises to Jesus.  They speak encouragement to others.  They pray for the hurting.  They say things that make others laugh.  They utter words of joy and life, compassion and love, kindness and goodness.  They speak a lot and fill this house with energy and exuberance and cheer.

It's your feet.  They're not afraid to walk into the unknown.  They help you run towards greater things.  They lead you to your friends on the playground.  They dance at the sound of music.  They allow you to spin around whenever mommy or daddy twirl you.  They help you to leap into all that this life has to offer and you, sweet one, leap amazingly well!

It's your arms.  Those arms give the most wonderful, joy-filled hugs.  They pick up your baby brother and spin him around just so that he will giggle.  They help you do cartwheels and tumble.  They're attached to your beautiful  hands that love to write notes about how wonderful life is, how people are the "best ever," and how the sign about golf on the side of the road is "really neat."  Those hands draw bright, colorful pictures of you with your family, your friends, of rainbows and clouds, houses and animals.  They express  your creativity.  They pick weeds that you think are incredible flowers.  Those hands grab a hold of your brother's hands - your first best friend in this world - whenever you think he needs an extra dose of bravery.

It's your mind.  You are a thinker.  You want to know all the things.  You thirst for knowledge.  You think about how to make other people smile.  You think about ways to improve yourself.  You think about how we can make sure good always wins. You think about what to say to fill a conversation.  Your genuine curiosity and interest makes other people feel noticed.  That, sweet girl, is an amazing gift.

It's your heart.  You love deeply.  You care fiercely.  You have compassion and concern for the people who have lost everything because of the hurricane and for the family down the road who have lost their cat.  You have a kind heart that beats with love for others. You strive to make other people feel valued.  Your heart beats for all things Jesus, for your family, your friends and for the colors: pink, purple, mint-green, yellow, blue, etc. because  "they're all too beautiful to just pick one."

I could go on and on about what makes you beautiful on the inside and the outside, but the reality is this:  What makes you the most beautiful is that you were created in God's image.  God is good and kind and loving and strong and you are good and kind and loving and strong because of Him.  He has made you with such care that He can tell you how many hairs are on your head.  He loves you so much that He knows every tear you've ever shed. He created you to be like Him and, sweet girl, you are doing a most excellent job allowing Him to mold you and shape you into the most beautiful version of yourself.

Throughout life, this world will try to knock you down.  It will try to rob your joy.  Make you question your compassion.  It will try to confuse you and fill that beautiful mind of your's with anxiety and worry.   But, you don't need to let it.  Never wonder about your worth.  Never question your value.  Never forget where you came from. And always keep being who you are: You are a treasure.  You are a gift.  You are more beautiful than glitter and sparkles.  You are more amazing than double rainbows and large mountains.  You are sweet.  You are smart.  You are funny.  You are kind.  You are the perfect you.  THE PERFECT YOU. You are loved and cherished by so many.  Most importantly, you are loved by the very one who fashioned you while you were still in my belly.

So, sweet girl, why did God make you this way?  Because this world would be so dull if He hadn't.

I love you more than the Target clearance rack!

Love,
Mommy
XOXOXOXO!!!

*And the Target clearance rack is a joke between my girl and me.  She knows I love her unconditionally. ;)


Thursday, August 24, 2017

The Rocks Won't Cry Out On My Behalf

My seven-year-old has been singing "If I had no voice, If I had no tongue, I would dance for You like the rising sun" for days now. I thought maybe it was due to the upcoming eclipse, but the eclipse passed and she's still singing it. She even drew a picture of someone dancing with no tongue (yeah, I don't know...her six-year-old brother thought it was hilarious).

The song is catchy and I've found myself singing it at random times this week as well. With more frequency now that "Total Eclipse of the Heart" is not as fun to sing. Something about the words have made me feel like a bit of a hypocrite, though. Do I praise Him enough? Praise and Worship music is a big thing in this family. We have nightly jam sessions/dance parties. We play it at home. It's always on in the car. My two sons scream passionately sing songs with words like "I've seen You move, You move the mountains and I believe I'll see you do it again," "We will not be moved when the earth gives way, for the Risen One has overcome" and "He'll see me through like before, He is Lord, He is Lord." (Yes, they have a slight Elevation Worship obsession right now which is much more tolerable than their "Maui, It's time to kick your hiney" obsession...Thank you, Moana). My two-year-old doesn't even comprehend what he is truly singing, but you better believe he can lift his hands in praise with the best of them. Yes, from the outside looking in, my husband and I have done a decent job infiltrating our lives with praises to our King.

So why have the words my sweet girl has been singing made me feel guilty? Why does a twinge of shame well up every time I catch myself humming along? Why does the verse about rocks crying out to Him if we withhold praise make me wonder when the rocks that sit in a decorative container on our kitchen table will start singing?

Like much that I don't want to deal with because I already know the answers, I've dismissed my questions to process at a more convenient time. You know, when all three kids are sleeping at the same time and I'm still alert enough to think, the laundry is caught up and the house is spic and span...so pretty much, never. But as those lyrics have remained in our house, the questions have also remained.

So because I often choose to be gut-wrenchingly honest on a blog that the world can read, here's the truth. I am REALLY good at voicing praises to God and can do so with repetition without even thinking about it (much like everyone can who was raised on '90s praise and worship church songs). I can quote Bible verses about His praise being continually on my mouth and giving thanks to Him for His love endures forever. When my children argue, I often make them apologize, say something nice to each other and then thank Jesus for their sibling. All that's good, but do I REALLY praise God? Do my actions thank Him when I'm upset and sulking because something in my life isn't going my way? Am I worshiping Him when I decide to reach over my Bible for the second, third, fourth day in a row and grab the remote because I just don't "feel" like reading His promises? Am I applauding Him when I look to man for comfort instead of running first to Him?

It is so easy to get into a routine of doing something but not really putting forth the effort to do it well. I have certain workout routines that I know will allow me to check off the box without using too much energy. If I don't really want to deal with sticking to my new and still evolving daily laundry routine, I wash and dry a load of the biggest items I can find because it's less to fold and put away. I put sandwiches on my menu plan so I can still say I planned dinner but it takes little work to actually make. While shortcuts are good at times, it's when my workouts have basically only been stretching all week, my family has twenty-five blankets to choose from but no unmentionables to wear, or are eating peanut butter sandwiches for dinner for the fifth night in a row, that the shortcut becomes a problem. Lately, I've approached praise with about as much effort as the above. I've just been going through the motions to check off a box. Read a few verses...check! Said a quick prayer...check! Thanked God for a couple things...check! But now I find myself worried about all the things and getting irritated over the silliest issues and I can't figure out why I'm so anxiety-filled??

Friends, we were made to praise Him! To really praise Him. To focus on His goodness when we're tempted to dwell on the badness of this world. It's impossible to stay angry at my husband over something when I start thanking God for him. I can't stay down in the dumps for long when - despite what is weighing me down - I lift up my hands in wholehearted worship to our King. It's a lot easier to not honk at the person who is driving like a maniac when I start to pray for her to get to the hospital safely because God knows that must be where she is heading driving like that. :) So today I'm practicing praising in all things. Focusing on Him, not me. We were created for praise and there's no way rocks in my kitchen will start to praise in my place.

It's fitting that all three kids just started singing this as I end:

"Your love is breaking out just like an echo, I feel it breaking out just like an echo....An echo in my soul."

May His love echo in your soul today as you praise His name!

*And a pic of my littlest praising Jesus a few months ago even though he was sick.




Friday, August 18, 2017

Lead Me To The Rock

Fists clenched, he lays stiffly on the ground.  His little body refusing to release any tension he feels.  His head pounds the carpet while he wails and I wonder if this toddler of mine will ever learn that banging his head on objects never ends well.   I watch as his sibling - the initiator of this tantrum - tries to appease him.  The toddler screams "NO!" and moves further away.  I call him to me.  "Gideon, come see Mama." Again he screams "NO!"  

Still, I know what he needs IS his mama.  It's late.  He's tired.  He just needs to be held and assured that it's all OK.  

I walk over to him and he jerks away.  I wait.  He screams.  Kicks. Flails.  Finally he glances my way.  He is ready to be helped. I happily oblige and hug him close.  "It's OK, buddy.  I've got you.  I love you, sweet boy.  You can calm down.  Everything is OK."  And with that, his fists loosen, his crying ceases and he snuggles in...resting in the arms of the one who loves him.

Yesterday morning - at an hour way too early to be awake - I woke up with this on my mind:
Psalm 61:1-4
Hear my cry, O God;
Attend to my prayer.
From the end of the earth I will cry to You,
When my heart is overwhelmed;
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For You have been a shelter for me,
A strong tower from the enemy.
I will abide in Your tabernacle forever;
I will trust in the shelter of Your wings. 

I tried to let the words sink in.  "How do I get there, God?  How can I really feel like I am on that rock that is higher than I?  How can I be in the shelter of your wings?" Later that morning, a dear friend shared that she was struggling with worry and anxiety, so I shared the verses.  They encouraged her and I thought maybe that passage was just meant for me to remember so that I could share with her.  Maybe I was just the messenger.  Still, those scriptures and questions lingered in my mind throughout the day.

As I watched my toddler and his tantrum that night, it all made sense and my questions were answered.  Much like my little guy couldn't seem to make his way to me when that's what he really needed, I tend to do the same with God.  Life gets tough and I pray, but I don't always dwell in His presence. I am not good at the "being still, and knowing." I don't allow Him to soothe me.  I fight it because I'm angry or tired or succumbing to 53 different emotions all at once.

And in this Psalm, David is where I am at times.  Overwhelmed.  Crying out to God.  Wanting help, but not knowing how to receive it.  So what does he do?  David asks to be led.  

I'm quick to cry out, but not always good at allowing God to lead me into His presence.  He waits with arms ready, longing to comfort, but I must first stop jerking away.  I have to release my control and let Him draw me in to Him.  And when He does, just like David, I am able to recognize His strength.  I am able to dwell in His arms and trust in the shelter of His wings.  It starts first with a cry and then a willingness to allow Him to truly work, but when I do that, the weight of this world is no longer mine, but His.

And a picture of the cutie with the temper like his mama's. Yes, we're both a work in progress. 



Saturday, July 15, 2017

Shifting My Focus: Still There

"Still there."

It's a statement made in NASCAR by spotters who are helping their drivers know the location of others cars so that they don't wreck.   I know this because my six-year-old son loves to watch YouTube videos where he can hear the spotter talking to his driver.  "Still there" is said a lot throughout the course of a race.  My very unofficial explanation is that it means a car is still beside a driver and he should not switch lanes unless he wants to crash.  (Sorry, sweet NASCAR writing husband of mine if I just made you cringe with my lack of racing knowledge).

"Still there."

We've heard that expression so much - thanks to our son's racing obsession - that it's become a family joke of sorts.  We will randomly say it throughout the course of a day for various reasons resulting in laughs that no one else would understand.  So it's no surprise that while I was exercising a few days ago (before going out of town and NOT exercising for a few days) that it popped into my head.  It was actually in reference to my accountability partners.  I wanted to give up about 6 minutes into a 27 minute workout.  I had multiple excuses for quitting:  Sleep was scarce the night before.  It's just too early.  I am out of the routine due to vacations.  I need to do laundry.  I need to make a grocery list.  I need to just pause and think about if I want to finish.   On and on went the excuses in my head. I didn't quit though because I knew my success sisters - as we refer to each other - were  STILL THERE.  Working out in their own living rooms...not giving up...fighting along beside me...helping me not to make a wreck of myself by allowing excuses to dictate my health journey.   It motivated me and compelled me to suck it up and finish.  

"Still there?"

It's the question I've pondered at times throughout life.  Is He there when I am so burdened by weights of this world that I can't feel Him?  Is He there when I feel overwhelmed in parenting and even though I pray to be a better mama, I still fail daily?  Is He there when my husband and I allow the responsibilities of this world to get in the middle of our relationship?  Is He still there when I can't seem to hear His voice even when I try really hard to listen?  Is He still there...beside me...in front of me...behind me...carrying me...in any type of close proximity?  

"God, are you still there????"

Like much in my life, I get from point A to point B the hard way.  So while I am contemplating if He's still there, anxiety begins to overtake me and suddenly the world as I know it feels like it's crashing in on me and I FINALLY get desperate enough to drop to my knees.  (Note to self...make prayer more of a priority on a regular basis and maybe you won't freak out so much.)  It's not in the desperation that He always responds to me.  Sometimes He does, but sometimes it's after the desperation...when I have emptied myself of myself.  When I lay aside how I WANT Him to respond and diligently seek Him with a willing and grateful heart...sometimes, that's when I hear Him the loudest...

"Still here."

It's something I know within my soul.  When I open my Bible, His promises flood my heart and mind. Verses that remind me that He will not forsake His believers.  I can see His mercies in the hardships that grow me. I can see His beauty in the nature that surrounds me.  I can see His grace in forgiveness.   I can see His presence in the many blessings he bestows upon me every single day.  As I think about those blessings and begin to THANK Him, I release all inhibitions and suddenly I KNOW that He is here.  And, much like a NASCAR racer is compelled to move forward and not sway when his spotter calmly states, "Still there" I can look toward Him  and move forward in full assurance that the God who ordered my steps before I was even born is "still here."

Friends, there is so much power in thanksgiving.  In finding gratitude in all areas of life.  When we shift our focus from ourselves and our inabilities and instead focus on Him and His goodness, the results are life-changing.  Let's hold ourselves accountable to this verse:  "In everything give thanks..." 1 Thessalonians 5:18

**Just for fun - and because this proud mama thinks he is super cute - a photo of my NASCAR loving boy who got this mama thinking about "Still there" to begin with. ;)









Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Always Watching

Moments like this make my heart smile...


My little warrior dressed up as a football player.  Here's the thing...His big brother (aka his hero) created this get-up yesterday.  Only, he was wearing it...


The pacifier is his mouth guard. ;)

Somewhere along the way, the little brother observed.  Several hours later - while the oldest was at school - our little guy decided to imitate him. And, goodness, he did a good job. 

He is always watching him...always...


Longing to be just like him.  Forever wanting to do what he does...



I am humbled and honored that I get to be a daily spectator of this brotherly bond.



And, just as our youngest looks up to our oldest boy, all three of my babies are watching me.  Observing.  Viewing.  Retaining.  Imitating.

It's a weighty position to be in, but an incredible position as well.  

This morning as I watched my little football player, I texted his picture to a friend..."My reminder that they're always watching..."

Always watching,

So I strive to be better.  To be the best me.  To reach within myself and to do the things that my flesh wars against daily...Exercise, eat healthy, stay calm, speak softly, love deeply, smile when I don't feel like it, honor my commitments, admit my mistakes, apologize, play hard, clean my house, and yes, even do the laundry.  

If my children are going to imitate me, I want them to imitate the best me.  Not the me with the short-fuse.  I don't always get it right.  I fail daily.  But in their mama, I pray that they will see perseverance, determination, and grit.  More importantly, I pray that they will see Christ in me.  That they will learn through my actions that when mistakes happen, we pray to God.  When life is difficult, we cling to Him.  When we need direction, we seek His face.  

My sweet littles...They love large already... 


I need not worry about them...For He who has begun a good work will be faithful to complete it (Philippians 1:6) for them...and for me.

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Rerouting the Journey

"She is rerouting us again, Mommy?"  That sweet girl of mine knows all too well that her mama is directionally challenged.  The GPS tells me to turn left and I turn right. It happens way too often for my liking.  The good news: whether I miss a turn or not, the end result is always the same...we get to our final destination. It may just take us longer than we anticipated.

Want to know something awesome?

If you're seeking God's will in your life and He tells you to go one way and you mistakenly go another, it will be OK.  You may be rerouted to go on a longer, slightly more complicated path, but the final destination will be where He wants you to be.

So, if your journey seems rocky right now, take courage in this:

"Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and He will establish your plans.  The Lord works out everything to its proper end..." Proverbs 16:3-4

Remember that nothing comes as a surprise to God.  He already knows what turn you're going to take before you take it and He already has it all worked out.