Negotiating a U-turn

U-turns can change a life, even end a life.

The maneuver itself is commonplace in every day life. Usually, U-turns happen when we're already distracted, with 14 things left on a single day's to-do list, none of which can be done without the very thing we've left behind -- be that a briefcase, a diaper bag, a cell phone, or worst of all, my purse.

Not all U-turns happen in a car. Some of them take place in the grocery store or even at home, when, halfway to the bedroom, we turn around to lower the thermostat or put the cat out.

Often, U-turns are for something we can easily do without, but would rather not. Like a travel mug of steaming hot coffee or a bag of sunflower seeds, conveniently placed right on the counter where we had planned to grab it on the way out. Too often, in this day and age of rent-a-flicks, it's a DVD, with 10 minutes left on the rental period before punitive late charges begin accruing.

Whatever the reason, with the briefest of glances over our left shoulder, if that, we wheel the car across at least two lanes of highway, heading back the way we came, sometimes doubling our speed. Most of the time, we make the maneuver successfully. Sometimes, if we've miscalculated the turning radius, we may have to whip the wheel around the other direction while backing up, gaining the space needed to complete the turn. This usually ratchets up the frustration meter, already red-lining, but once you've crossed that double line, you've got to follow through.

Sometimes, we take a U-turn in our hearts, not necessarily going back the way we came, but certainly in a direction we never intended to travel, as happened to a friend of mine many years ago.

A sudden impassable roadblock appeared, fully intended to stop her in her tracks. Her life had already swerved off-course and though she'd been amply warned of impending ruin, she ignored the yellow triangles along the way and continued, pell-mell, on her disastrous course. When the roadblock appeared, she didn't even let off the gas, let alone stop and consider her options. She continued her mad dash, making her own road, into the wilderness. She's been blazing that trail for years, leaving behind husband, children, parents, brothers, sisters and friends as if they were so much excess baggage, slowing her down on her journey to nowhere.

Is it too late for her to make a U-turn?

Spiritually, a U-turn is synonymous with repentance. We look down the road ahead and suddenly realize that we're headed nowhere, fast. A clear look at where we're headed and where we want to be reveals that our choices have led us far from the road that leads us safely home. A U-turn is in order.

But U-turns are problematic. We may be at the mid-point of a steep hill, without a clear line of vision of any oncoming traffic, or just around a sharp corner with no way to see if anyone is coming up behind us, ready to broadside us as soon as we commit to the turn. We slow down, hoping for a wide open stretch of road, both ways, making our way into the breakdown lane on the right, giving ourselves ample room to turn this life around. We know we have to turn around, the sooner the better, because the longer we stay on this road, the harder it will be to stop, look and turn around.

I see it happen all the time. A friend or a family member, this close to reaching out to Jesus, a hand's breadth from grasping his hand of salvation, looks just a little too long over their shoulder, asking "Is it really safe to turn around? Is it worth going back? Is there anything to go back for?"

That's all the enemy needs. The smallest of openings through which he drives a semi-load of doubt. His quiver is full of the arrows of "what ifs?". What if it's too late? What if I've gone too far? What if God isn't good? What if God isn't merciful? What if God isn't love, isn't just, or worst of all, what if God simply isn't?

It's as if the good seed, leaving the farmer's hand, never even has a chance to land in the soil of their heart's garden, but is swallowed midair, consumed like mosquitos falling prey to swooping bats as a summer evening melts from dusk into twilight.

Commit to the turn. Follow through. This corner can be turned, the path laid straight before you. Even though, at times, the road will be steep and rocky, trust the One who leads you now. He's been here before.

One thing I know for certain -- it doesn't matter how long, how far or how hard and fast you have run, even if you've dodged every roadblock designed to stop you on your mad dash to hell, you are always just one hand's breadth from the One who loves you, the One who will lead you safely home, the One who gives new life.

"Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief." Mark 9:24 (KJV)