Did you know I'm stubborn?

I didn't. Well, not really. I knew I was feisty, but stubborn? Nah. I'm always ready to listen to and take direction from others? Aren't I? Well before some of you fall off your chairs at my naivety, know that I finally discovered the truth. Okay. Go ahead and ROFL.

So yesterday I picked up a friend, drove us to an RS Christmas social and then took us to the stake center for a temple recommend interview. Simple, right? Ya. It was simple. Except for the fact that I got us lost MULTIPLE times because I wasn't paying attention to the road, street signs, or pretty much anything else. It is even sadder considering I had been to both places prior to yesterday so the whole "it was my first time" excuse doesn't really count. We ended up 20 minutes late to the party (which in Utah is right on time but here they actually start at the time listed! Crazy, I know). This wasn't a huge deal except for the fact that I had the program director in my car with me. This pushed back our end time to 8p which was supposed to be the time I was at the stake center for my interview. If you had looked out your window at 8:03p last night (and if you lived on this particular street) you would have seen two crazy silhouettes that might be women running as fast as they could in heels on a wet street while balancing a plate full of food. Better would be seeing those same silly girls jump into a truck that was not just too big for them, but for the entire state and proceed to complete a 20-point turn to get the mammoth truck out of the neighborhood. Let me tell you, good times. I'm sure the neighbors were shaking their heads and praying for their poperty.

Well, I figured we were on the road so all was well (don't worry I'm getting to my epiphany of stubbornness), but it turns out I shouldn't have taken that for granted. My first mistake was being on auto pilot so I ended up driving home instead of to the stake center. I fixed that error as soon as I pulled onto my street and found my way back to the 29North. Confident in my ability to find the church, I again went on auto pilot as I chatted it up with my friend Annie. At some point I realized I needed to make the connection to the 100 and posed the question to Annie who indicated I should get off on the 40. Absolutely sure I could get to the 100 from the 29, I STUBBORNLY ignored Annie's direction and unabashedly watched as we approached and then passed the 40 exit. Well, to my shame, I immediately learned that I was wrong. (I know, I know, that NEVER happens, right?). While you can get to the 100 from the 29, you can't do it if you've already passed the interchange! The 40 was my last chance and I missed it because of just plain silliness. A 15 minute trip turned into an hour as I continued to try and fix my mistake by blundering into more streets and neighborhoods I didn't know. (I even drove on someone's lawn! But shhh, don't tell anyone.) The Lord must love me because by the time we arrived, the counselor in the stake presidency was just getting ready to leave. (Yeah! A happy ending!)

As I drove around last night, running over lawns and backing into mailboxes, I learned 2 things. One, I REALLY shouldn't be driving a truck in Maryland. And (the more important) 2, I believe the Lord must feel like Annie did last night. He tells me to take this off ramp or that road and I smile and nod, say thank you, and then do my own thing anyway. I'm much too stubborn for my own good! So, I've decided to stop driving and to start listening. At least I'm going to try and do both... maybe not at the same time... but I really am going to put a greater effort into doing what the Lord asks of me when He asks it. Otherwise, I'll probably end up in Outer Darkness, driving over Satan's lawn while running over his mailbox just because I thought I knew the way better than Heavenly Father does!


P.S. No mailboxes were actually harmed in the making of this saga. And I'm not really as bad of a driver as I pretend to be. I'm close, but still decent enough to be entrusted with children and small animals.