I have a new friend. My wife gave her to me for Christmas last year. I can hold her in my hand, she helps me get where I need to go, and she’s there for me whenever I need her. She has a nice speaking voice, but I can turn it off when I don’t feel like listening anymore. She came with the name “Garmin,” and my kids love her too. Garmin’s even grown on my wife—I think there was some jealousy there for a while—and now we all can’t imagine our lives without her.

Maybe you don’t love your GPS system as much as I love mine. But maybe your sense of direction and map-reading skills aren’t as bad as mine. My wife often compliments me on my “masterful navigational skills.” I think she’s being ironic.

When I don’t obey her directions or make a wrong turn, her response always makes me smile. Believe it or not, she doesn’t get mad. She doesn’t yell. She just calmly makes an adjustment and figures out where I need to go next in order to get to my destination. Like the true friend she is, she simply says “Recalculating,” as the graphics on her screen reassemble and piece our newly formed route together.

Whatever mess I’ve gotten us into, she’s willing to meet me where I am, and help us get where we need to go. She’s got the perfect “U-Turn” and alternative route for every occasion. Not only is she calm when I’m not, but she’s also forgiving when I sass her. Sometimes, I can’t resist going the wrong way on purpose and I chuckle as she keeps saying “Recalculating … recalculating” over and over again.

I ask her if that’s tension I hear in her voice, but she ignores the jibe and just gets to the business of our journey. She’s really something else. I always feel badly after I mess with her like this. I ask her forgiveness, but she just asks me where I want to go next. I guess good friends like us don’t have to say anything at these moments.

I’m being silly here, but it’s for a point. This is because I’ve got an even better friend than Garmin who’s been trying to help me with my journey since the day I was born. He’s helpful, always there for me, speaks to me—when I’m willing to listen—and my family can’t imagine our lives without Him. He also never yells and gives up on me, even when I sass Him; instead, He’s always ready to meet me where I am and help me recalculate my next step.

When I mess up, He offers me forgiveness, too. He also never says “I told you so” and never stops trying to reach me, even when I intentionally turn His volume down. He’s really something else.

Lent is our time to recalculate. If you’re like me, your sense of direction is faltering. If you’re like me, you need someone to help you get where you need to go. If you’re like me, you need another chance to get out of the mess you’re in.