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Throughout my teenage years, four embarrassing pimples reappeared on my face every single month. Their scattered location reminded me of playing "connect the dots" with my siblings.

Although I was decent at the game, I've often needed a bit of assistance "connecting the dots" in real life. Today, at 57, I'd trade my lines and wrinkles for those aggravating blemishes any day. I wish I made the connection and enjoyed my youthful complexion while I had it!

Speaking in a politically correct manner has never been my strength, so indulge me when I say that I feel guided, as if there is a universal "control tower," emitting useful navigation. Sometimes, I observe the tower's direction; other times, I ignore it. But I just don't believe I am flying solo.

For the past seven years, a book club has been meeting at our house. It's a no-pressure book club with the motto, "Come when you can, even if you haven't read the book. Feel free to bring a friend. Don't knock. Just walk in." Our only rule is that we select books that contain some element of spirituality, as these provide ample material for discussion and personal challenge.

A while back, the book club read Squire Rushnell's "When God Winks: How the Power of Coincidence Guides Your Life." Rushnell's observations reinforced my "control tower" theory and a desire to connect the dots when counsel comes my way.

Recently, during one of our book discussions, someone asked if anyone had ever had the feeling of "being where you are supposed to be, doing what you are supposed to be doing." We all pondered the concept and a few people came up with an example.

Interestingly, the common theme woven into these unique experiences involved quietly caring for someone. They had nothing to do with "resume-building" activities. Connecting the dots, I heard the tower speaking.

My favorite painting is "The Kiss" by Gustav Klimt. I often stare at the print hanging in our dining room and wonder what Gustav was thinking. To me, "The Kiss" conveys the idea that love covers and surrounds us.

In June, our family traveled to beautiful St. Petersburg in Russia to visit our daughter-in-law Anastasia's family. Traveling that far is grueling. As we approached our final destination, my husband Mike and I started to wonder whether we should have made the trip.

Exhausted, we entered the apartment we had rented. Before my weary eyes, hanging on a large wooden dowel was an eight-by-six-foot reproduction of "The Kiss," printed on an enormous piece of fabric covering half the wall.

Instantly connecting the dots, I knew we were where we were supposed to be. I dropped my bags on the floor, shook my head in awe and thanked the tower.

The other day at work, I was on the phone with someone who was speaking in a way that annoyed me. When I got off the phone, my thoughts were negatively ricocheting.

Suddenly, the tower sent this unmistakably clear message: "That is not your job. Your job is to love." Momentarily frozen, it didn't take much to connect those dots.

Best of all, as always, there was no condemnation from the tower.

(Mrs. Bonanno attends St. Mary's parish in Albany. She can be reached at [email protected].)[[In-content Ad]]

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