I am really good at getting lost. Brad is baffled by the fact that, even in the metro area where I’ve lived most of my life and even with my Mapquest print-outs, I’m still capable of getting totally, completely lost.

But you know what? I haven’t been lost in many weeks. Little did I know, when I got my new Samsung Galaxy SIII this summer, it would be such a game-changer. Turns out the thing has a GPS service called VZ Navigator with a super-smart, very nice woman {apparently hiding inside the device} to tell me EXACTLY WHERE I NEED TO GO: where to turn, when to turn and what to expect next. And if I go off course, she kindly re-configures her directions without getting worried or nervous. With a little help from my smooth-talking friend, I suddenly feel confident and competent behind the wheel.

The other day, I told a friend that my phone has become my trusty navigator. Her response: “Think it could tell me where to go in my life!?” We laughed – but I know she was half-serious, wishing someone would just tell her what to do next in her work and relationships vs. figuring it all out herself.

There have been plenty of times in my life when I would have jumped at the chance to have a Life GPS! But, in hindsight, I realize a lot of the twists and turns and roadblocks I encountered led me to who and where I am today. And, oftentimes, I actually was using my own emotional compass to choose my path. My inner GPS – the one that makes my stomach turn when I make a bad choice or infuses me with superhero energy when I make a particularly enlightened decision – is a constant companion, giving me frequent signs about where I’m going or what I’m doing.

When things get tough, it’s like rush hour in my head and heart: every emotion, every idea, every insecurity floods my senses and creates a traffic jam. I have to intentionally block out all that noise in order to hear the smart, smooth-talking lady inside – my personal GPS – whispering where to go next.

P.S. Just so you know, I’m part of the Verizon Wireless Midwest Savvy Moms program, which means they gave me a fancy pants phone, six months of service, and the freedom to honestly share my thoughts about the device with you. Pretty sweet, huh?