Revenge of the Luddites

Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

Are you familiar with that annoying "law"?
I feel like it's the story of my life, I tell ya!
But the good news is, God is bigger than anything, and He's in all of it. Good thing, too, or I might not have made it to the retreat for which I was speaking this past weekend.
See, the thing is, usually whenever I travel anywhere I map out my trip ahead of time, and write the directions down on an information sheet I keep for each speaking event. But since a certain significant person in my life often accuses me of being a Luddite, I have begun to change my ways. That is, I have begun relying on the GPS on my phone.
Instead of the old fashioned practice of using ink and paper.

So, Friday I spent the night with my daughter, because Wheaton is a short distance from where the retreat was being held - and I really didn't want to drive 4+ hours on Saturday morning. Anyway, I was bunking with my girl Friday and after going out to dinner with Elizabeth, her beau and a couple of her roommates, I was ready for sleep. I got my jammies on, plugged in my phone (but didn't turn it off like I usually do, because it was serving as my alarm clock) and snuggled up on the couch.
Saturday morning I woke up before my alarm (Guess I could have turned my phone off over night after all.), got ready for the retreat, and was on my way. Of course, before I walked out the door I entered the address of the retreat location on my phone so I would know how to get where I was going. However, somewhere between walking out the door and pulling out of my parking spot I must have inadvertently touched the screen and changed the location on the GPS. At first I followed the directions even though they weren't what I was expecting because I figured, the phone knows. But when, "Continue for 112 miles," came out of the speaker, I knew something had gone terribly wrong. So I pulled over to the side of the highway and re-entered the address I needed.
Got turned around, was heading the right way, and felt especially thankful that I tend to plan too much extra time for trips such as these. Until...
I glanced at my phone to see how far it was until my next exit and - and, for some reason the screen was black. So I swiped it, but nothing happened. And I pressed the little button on the front, but still nothing happened. So I picked it up and tried the power button. And it came back to life.
*Phew!*
Except, instead of going to the usual screen, it was all white and said something like, "Low Battery warning. Battery at 5%. Charge now, stupid!" And I'm all, Whaaa???? I plugged it in last night. What happened? Which was just about the moment I realized I never actually looked to see that it was charging. Didn't have the presence of mind to also realize how good it would have been to have the foresight to know I didn't need to leave it on all night, because I would wake up before the alarm, anyway.
Yeah, didn't think about the irony of that circumstance. Instead, I began praying, God, I need you to get me to this thing. And I threw in a plea for my phone battery.
Buuuuut, the phone died before God had a chance to answer that one, so I was left with my thoughts - and the deep regret that I'd opted for the non-Luddite plan for getting to the retreat.
Which is when I decided to go ultra-Luddite.
That is, I stopped to ask for directions.
I had no time to waste, so I stopped at the first place I could find. A retirement center. The irony was dripping all around me! Unfortunately, the first person I encountered couldn't help me. Fortunately, the second one could. In fact, she led me to a row of computers (Which are apparently for the use of the residents. More irony.) and let me check in with my faithful friend, Mapquest. I wrote down the directions, Luddite-style, and made my way back to the van. (Obstacles totaling approximately another 10-15 minutes surfaced, but I'll spare you the details. *eye roll*)

The good news? I got back on the road and this time felt assured I was heading the right way. (Though I wished I could call the retreat coordinator and let her know I was coming - since I originally told her I would aim to arrive 90 minutes prior to the current time. But I couldn't because, um, dead battery.)
Regardless, I had my old-fashioned, hand-written, Luddite-style directions and - with them - I made it to the retreat.
With a little time to spare.

Guess who has now committed to ink-on-paper directions, from here to eternity and beyond?