Not All Who Wander are Lost

 Wandering with a Purpose: Trusting the True GPS

After moving to a large metropolitan city, I’ve found the need to “get out of town” rising more often. There’s something about wide-open skies, mountains, and the stillness of nature that restores the soul—especially after days surrounded by pavement, buildings, and nonstop noise.

Earlier this year, I visited Oatman, Arizona—a small town with an Old West vibe, semi-wild burros wandering the streets, and rich history. Named after Olive Oatman, a girl who survived an Indian massacre in 1851, the town was settled by miners in 1915 and feels like a step back in time. I loved it and wanted to share it with friends, so we planned a day trip.

We were excited, but Las Vegas traffic had other plans. It took nearly an hour on the I-11 before we began to see desert sand, mountains, and the spindly silhouettes of Joshua trees. Our route took us past signs for Pearce Ferry, Dolan Springs, Chloride, and even a place called Santa Claus—before reaching Kingman, the largest town between Vegas and Oatman. There, we picked up historic Route 66, once the great American highway stretching from Chicago to Santa Monica.

Though I had GPS, I wasn’t entirely confident—we were in the mountains, and signal drops are real. We started noticing signs of recent storms: standing water and dirt debris. Then, the pavement ended. The road ahead was rough, the homes sparse and weathered, and the horizon obscured. Uncertain, and encouraged by my passengers, I turned around. We reprogrammed the GPS and were rerouted through tiny towns where livestock outnumbered people. Eventually, we found ourselves on Route 68… headed somewhere.

The detour made me think of Moses. His journey from Egypt to the Promised Land had divine GPS—God’s Positioning System—guiding them with a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night (Exodus 13:21). All they had to do was trust and follow. But when the path ahead looked uncertain or too hard, they turned around. Fear replaced faith, and a trip that should have taken weeks stretched into forty years.

As for us? Turns out, had we stayed the course down that dirt road, we would have made it to Oatman. The road was passable—just muddy from recent floods.

The lesson? When the road ahead seems unclear or uncomfortable, keep trusting your GPS—Jesus Christ. He never loses signal. When we take detours (and we all do), He gently invites us back. You may not reach your original destination, but you will arrive exactly where God can use you. Like the Israelites who finally entered the Promised Land under Joshua’s leadership, you'll come to realize—you are home.

That day, we may not have made it to Oatman, but we made meaningful memories. We had deep conversations, laughed, sat in silence, and reflected. As J.R.R. Tolkien said, “Not all those who wander are lost.” We weren’t truly lost. We just didn’t know exactly where we were… until we did. Civilization reappeared, the Colorado River sparkled in the sun, and familiar comforts welcomed us. It wasn’t the place we set out to find—but it was exactly where we were supposed to be.

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Prayer

Heavenly Father,

You alone direct our feet and know our path.
Thank You for the guidance You provide.
Forgive us when we do not trust You—
when we lean on our own understanding
and turn aside in our own wisdom.
We praise You for bringing us through doubts
and fears, keeping us safe in Your hand.

In Jesus’ holy and precious name, Amen.