My oldest daughter was in second grade and the others were preschoolers when my sister-in-law and I decided to take our kids to Luray Caverns. We loved the enormous underground chambers filled with towering stone formations. We held our breath anxiously at the few moments of total darkness when the lights were turned off. We threw wishing coins into the crystal clear underground lake, and smiled at the music of the great the Stalacpipe Organ. But the most memorable part of the day, at least for me, came after we left the caverns and the kids talked us into walking through the intriguing Garden Maze outside.

The day was a hot, humid, typical summer Virginia day, and the contrast to the chill of the caverns made the maze a sweaty challenge. The sun was bright and directly overhead, which made squinting a necessity since we were not prepared enough to have sunglasses or hats. The bushes were 8 feet tall and four feet wide, and the maze itself consisted of a half mile of confusing paths. Various fountains and foggy misters helped a little, but the dead ends just seemed to keep coming over and over again. The kids ran from path to path with excitement, while I found myself growing increasingly frustrated and cranky by being lost and hot.

Eventually, my nieces and nephews got tired of the challenge and gave up, so my sister-in-law escaped with them through a tiny opening in the Arbor Vitae wall and went off to find water and ice cream. My kids gave up a little while later. Exhausted and sweaty we ate loser ice cream and the kids slept the whole way home.

On the peaceful drive, and many times since, I’ve thought about that crazy maze. I learned after we escaped that we were right around the corner from the exit when we gave up. Isn’t life like that? We try to get through the path of life, meeting dead end after dead end. Sometimes we give up the quest when the answer seems elusive, and all we needed was a little more time, a little more patience, a little more perseverance. Sometimes we’re a hundred miles from the finish line and sometimes only a few feet. How do we know when to quit and when to keep going?

The only answer I’ve come up with is prayer. I ask the Holy Spirit to fill me with wisdom, flexibility, patience, and acceptance. I open myself to God’s will and then try my best to follow it. Right or wrong, I accept the outcome. I’ve learned that even if I make a mistake and give up too early, or persevere long after I should have quit, God finds a way to bring good out of it all – just like the ice cream on that long-ago day. In His amazing way, He can weave both my mistakes and right choices into the beautiful image that makes up my life.

And He is always walking right there in the maze beside me. That’s the best part.