Psalm 107

Wander...

Some wandered in desert wastes,

finding no way to an inhabited town;

5 hungry and thirsty,

their soul fainted within them.

6 Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

and he delivered them from their distress;

7 he led them by a straight way,

until they reached an inhabited town.

I’ve always thought I was ambidextrous, but when I looked at the definition today, I realized that wasn’t the case. The classic definition of ambidextrous is being able to do the same task equally well with either hand — for example, writing, throwing, or brushing your teeth with both hands interchangeably. Even though I can bowl equally badly with both arms and cut food with either hand, what best describes me is something called mixed-handedness or cross-dominance.

According to the internet, this reflects how my brain’s hemispheres communicate and specialize. In strongly right- or left-handed people, the “maps” for movement, spatial awareness, and even language are usually anchored more clearly in one hemisphere. Mixed-handed people often have a more even (or at least different) distribution of these maps. For example, I favor one hand for some tasks and the other for different tasks: I write with my right hand but throw with my left (I’m a lefty in baseball and basketball). I can eat and cut with both.

I’ve always been fascinated by how that connects with my constant lack of direction. Research doesn’t seem completely unanimous, but several studies and meta-analyses show patterns:

• Spatial orientation variability. Mixed-handed people sometimes score a bit lower on standardized tests of mental rotation and left/right discrimination. That doesn’t mean they can’t orient themselves — only that the system they use is less rigidly lateralized.

• Left–right confusion. People who write with one hand but do sports with the other are more likely to hesitate when told “turn left” or “use your right foot,” especially under pressure. It takes me what feels like an eternity to figure this out when navigating.

• Greater adaptability. On the flip side, mixed-handed people can be more flexible at integrating visual cues and landmarks. They may rely less on rote “left/right” thinking and more on a holistic map of the environment.

The internet assures me that if I notice occasional hiccups with left/right or navigation, it’s not a flaw — it’s just different brain wiring. Still, it can be unnerving, and it has led me to wander and get lost. It makes me anxious when asked to give directions, and I give thanks to God for whoever invented GPS… I just wish it didn’t say “turn right” or “turn left”!

For me, wandering is tied to getting lost and needing specialized, focused direction. The psalmist seems to describe something similar: the people wandered left and right, right and left, and found no water or food. But the Lord heard their cries and led them to an inhabited land, where they found what they needed to survive.

I’ve been lost, and I’ve felt my soul faint within me. I’ve cried in amusement parks, on college campuses, in department stores. Yet I’ve always been delivered into the safe arms of a parent, sibling, or friend. I’ve always reached an inhabited town.

In Puerto Rico, several older folks have wandered off and gotten lost. Some were found. Others were not. Getting lost can sometimes be a matter of life and death. So I pray for those who wander and get lost — that they may find a helping hand, where they don’t have to rely only on their own sense of left and right, and that they may find a way home.