The Detour

A portion of the road was closed.
I only have to go that way on occasion.
Today of all days, I knew I would have to use that portion of the road.
However, before I drove in that direction, I had other things I needed to do.

I was trying to make my drive as direct as possible.
I was trying to be wise about the route I would take.
I really didn’t think about an alternative to the detour until I was driving home.
I wondered if I really needed to go in that direction or could it wait until another day?

I decided that the old adage, never put off until tomorrow what you can do today, was wise.
I remembered a road that I had seen near the area that was closed.
The other end of that long road was a simple turn off the road on which I was driving.
I used my GPS on my phone just in case.

It was raining and chilly and gray and dreary.
All I wanted to do was go home and have a cup of tea.
Maybe I will even put the fire on in the gas fireplace, I thought to myself.
Maybe I will have a quiet hour before I have to make dinner, I decided.

I was listening to my music and enjoying the worship song that was playing.
I was singing along and the gray day seemed a bit brighter.
The road I was driving on had many curves.
My music stopped.

I have Bluetooth in my car and rely on good cellular service to play my music.
I realized where I was driving at that moment.
My husband calls it the dead zone because all phone service dies on this road.
The road is flanked by hills and wooded areas.

For the duration of this road, you have to remember that you will lose a call.
Now I learned that I lose my music as well.
I also realized that I lost my maps.
I glanced down at my phone and the road on my map just stopped.

The road looked like the cartoon where Wily Coyote goes off the end of a cliff.
I could see the Road Runner laughing at me.
So you thought you could figure out your own detour? The little voice accused.
I entered the dead zone and I lost my music and my maps.

I never saw anything like it.
The road just stopped.
The graphics on my map just ended.
The road names and the highlighted directional path was gone.

I knew the general area where I was headed.
I had never taken this road that should intersect the road I needed above the construction area.
I had passed this area before and always wanted to drive down the charming road.
I never had a reason, until now.

The last point on the map, before the dead zone, was the circle that was supposed to be my car.
There is was; one tiny circle stranded on a road that just came to an abrupt end.
I was seemingly floating there, unable to go forward and unable to retreat.
I was stuck or so it seemed, according to my map.

When I began to drive on the charming road, it was everything I thought it would be.
There were lovely stone walls made beautiful horse corals.
There were barns and old stone farmhouses.
Despite the gray day and the dreariness and the rain, I was enjoying my detour.

It was lovely until the school bus came towards me.
This narrow country road did not comfortably accommodate a bus and a mini van.
I pulled as close to the side of the road as I could possibly go.
The bus passed me and a pleasant woman waved and mouthed, thank you.

I was still without maps and without music.
The circle on the map that was me was still on the precipice of a road that simply dropped off.
I was like the engineer of a train who is unaware that there is a washout up ahead.
Yet, I was truly enjoying the scenery on my detour.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. (Proverbs 3:5,6)

I had a life lesson as I drove without a map on a road I had never traveled before.
I had to trust.
I could not rely on my GPS because it was inoperable.
I could not rely on myself because I had never traveled this way before.

I had to trust in the One who never leaves me or forsakes me.
I had to trust in the One that is omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent.
I had to press on and trust that He would keep my path straight.
Suddenly, at my moment of total surrender, my music began to play.

I glanced down at my phone.
The circle on the map that was me began to move again.
The road did not drop off.
My path was highlighted; its twists and turns were now visible.

I got to the end of the lovely detour road.
I saw that I was above the construction area.
I knew where I was from that point on.
Yet, I was thankful for the object lesson.

How many of us go through life without a map?
How many of us take detours looking for shortcuts and new ways to do the same thing?
How many of us are like the train unaware of the washout up ahead?
How many of us constantly rely on ourselves instead of the One who made us?

It is tiring to rely on just yourself.
It is frustrating when you can’t see the big picture.
It is annoying when the only sound you hear in the dead zone is the sound of your heartbeat.
We cannot get out of the dead zone by ourselves.

We cannot pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and boast when we are directionless.
We cannot keep moving when we do not know where we are going.
We must acknowledge Him in all our ways.
Only then will our crooked path be straight; only then can we exit the dead zone.

I kept the GPS on even though I knew where I was at that point.
The British speaking voice kept interrupting my music.
I wanted to say, I know where I am, but that would be futile.
The way out was provided by the One who sees me.

I enjoyed the scenery on my detour.
It was a close call as the road narrowed.
It was a bit disconcerting when I tried to rely on me.
At the moment of surrender, my path was clear.