Picking up my mom from the Greyhound "station" (quotes used because the station isn't really, but rather a taxi depot where a bus drops people off), I figured it wouldn't hurt to take Jesus with us. After all, driving through a less desirable part of the city demands taking extra precautions, including divine intervention.
Turns out GPS would have been a bit more helpful. I mean, Jesus is a master director, but even he doesn't he doesn't argue with Google Map Fails (Yes, for the first time, Google Maps gave me the WRONG directions, which I will never admit being operator error). That's why God invented postal workers-- even Jesus needs a little help sometimes.
We did get my mother and now we (Jesus, too) know exactly where the sad excuse for a Greyhound station is located. (I shouldn't complain because at least we didn't have to make a two or three hour drive to the train station or airport).