READING THE ROAD SIGNS, PART 7
DETOURS
It was a gray day. We were relative newlyweds,
driving to the Northwest from San Diego, carrying our
three-month-old Kristen to visit family for
Thanksgiving. We weren't rushed. We visited an uncle in
Cambria and then took Scenic Highway 1 late in the
afternoon. It was my first time on that famous route,
and I didn't want to miss it.
The ocean rocked and foamed to my left as I glanced
out from the driver's side window, catching snapshots of
the mighty Pacific and then darting my eyes back to the
winding road. The tight curves and high cliffs gave me a
rush and put a pit in my stomach. What a thrilling ride!
We were almost to the halfway point. Then the storm
rolled in.
The rain fell in blinding sheets. Even with the
wipers on high, visibility was almost impossible. The
winds blew against our little Nissan wagon. My stomach
tightened around every turn, hoping that other cars
would not veer into our lane. Then I realized that no
other cars were on the highway. I began to pray, hoping
that I wasn't leading our little family into danger.
Then came the rocks. Mostly smallish ones bounced over
the road. But then we saw boulders lying in the way like
harbingers of pending disaster.
For a while, I tried to be brave and project calm.
Sue was trying not to increase my burden with her
worries. I remember feeling shame for endangering my
family, coupled with stubbornness against admitting the
need to turn back. And while I feared that the stress
could come between us, I remember Sue's grace under
duress and the way she both trusted me and shared the
burdens of the moment.
Finally, we saw it together. We had to turn around
and go back, through the same messy conditions. We'd
have to spend the night in Cambria. Then we'd have to
wind our way east, and even a bit south, before we could
go north again.
We did all of that without (God be praised) further
incident. But it was tough to turn back. I'd planned the
trip out so carefully, trying to be such a grown up. And
once I start something, I take real relish in finishing
it. It was disappointing to quit on Highway 1. And it
was a hard swallow to be late for family. Still, we were
safe and together.
How we handle detours might define the quality of our
lives more than how well we plan things. Sure, I could
have, or should have, checked the weather forecast. The
whole incident might have been avoided. But not all
detours come with accurate forecasts. Usually, the sign
pops up in the least expected way at the most
inconvenient time. How we respond has everything to do
with our joy, our peace and our influence in the lives
of others.
So let's get practical. What's the best way to handle
detours? A few thoughts:
- Give up control. Some matters are beyond our
powers of prediction, planning or persuasion.
- Slow down. The detour will not likely be a freeway
or a fast way. Reduce speed.
- Don't turn against each other. The unanticipated
tends to create stress, and stress can turn us into
cannibals. Take this detour together.
- Consult the map. Get reoriented to new
surroundings and a new pathway.
- Pray. Remember that God travels every road. You
are not alone.
- Consider the possibility that God has, at least,
allowed this detour. There might be a treasure, a
thing of beauty or a profound lesson, to be found
along that road.
- Practice gratitude. Thank God that there is a
secondary way and that we aren't trapped in some
dark fate.
- Readjust for new outcomes. Every detour changes
things. Speed. Cost. Energy expenditure. Arrival
time. Nothing will be the same, so let go of old,
useless outcome projections.
- Learn the art of acceptance.
- Another detour is coming. We may not know when or
where, but it's coming.
So little about my life has gone according to plan.
So much about my life is more rich and textured and
colorful than I could have imagined. So many experiences
could have been avoided if only I'd known. So many of
those same experiences are the very stuff. of richness
and texture and color. They've made life better than I
could have planned it. They've made me better than I
would otherwise have been.
We'll probably never be eager for more detours.
Still, since they're coming, we might as well find peace
with them, even in advance, and let go of our worries.
As Jesus says, "The day's own troubles are
sufficient for the day." Weathered and seasoned by
detours, I might dare to add, "God's help has
proven sufficient for the troubles."
With love,
Keith Potter |
