The GPS That Learned Her Name

When Maria Chen moved from Taipei to rural Vermont in 2019, she relied entirely on her phone's GPS to navigate the unmarked back roads between her apartment and the hospital where she worked as a nurse. Every morning in the dark, she would type in the address and follow the blue line — trusting a voice she couldn't see to guide her through fog, ice, and roads with no streetlights.

One February morning, the GPS rerouted her around a bridge that had iced over during the night. She later learned two cars had slid off that bridge just minutes before. "I didn't know the danger," Maria told her church small group. "But the one guiding me did."

Over time, Maria stopped needing the GPS. She had learned the roads — not just the fastest routes, but which hills flooded in spring, which curves gathered black ice, which shortcuts the locals used. The guidance had become part of her. She didn't just follow directions anymore; she understood the land.

David's prayer in Psalm 25 echoes this kind of trust. "Show me Your paths, Lord, teach me Your ways," he asks. Not just one-time directions, but deep knowledge — the kind that moves from the screen into the soul. God doesn't simply tell us where to turn. He teaches us His covenant, His steadfast love, His mercy remembered "from of old." The more we walk with Him, the more His paths become our own — not because we've memorized the route, but because we've come to know the Guide.