Detour Ahead

Detour Ahead

It happens when we least expect it. We’re traveling down the highway, making great time, knowing we’ll reach our destination on time. And then, out of nowhere, we see it: the bright orange sign. It has two simple words printed on it, “Detour ahead.” Before we know it, we’re off the highway, traveling some winding two lane road. Our speed slows dramatically, and the traffic resembles a caravan of snails inching toward their destination.

Our typical reaction to the detour? We whine, we gripe, we bemoan our fate.

Jesus experienced a detour too. One minute He was in the fast lane. People crowded around Him, begging to see Him and hear Him speak. They call Him “Savior” and wanted to make Him king. They threw palm branches and their robes at His feet, praising Him as He entered Jerusalem. Surely, He was traveling quickly toward fame, riches, and royalty.

But a detour caused an abrupt about face to that trip. Jesus was arrested, beaten, humiliated, and nailed, nearly naked, to a rugged wooden cross. How did He react to this detour? He uttered two sentences that show His attitude to the detour. “Father…not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42) and “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). Because He traveled the detour, which of course was the plan all along, believers receive eternal life.

On our highway of life, we will encounter unexpected detours. How will we react? Will we whine and complain? Or will we submit to the One who knows the final destination?

Choose Worship

I have learned that in every circumstance that comes my way, I can choose to respond in one of two ways: I can whine or I can worship! And I can’t worship without giving thanks. It just isn’t possible. When we choose the pathway of worship and giving thanks, especially in the midst of difficult circumstances, there is a fragrance, a radiance, that issues forth out of our lives to bless the Lord and others.
— Nancy Leigh DeMoss

Ordinary Beauty

Today, heeding the words of Robert Frost, I took “the road less travelled.” As I walked the familiar gravel path, I noticed a trail to my left, and it beckoned. Venturing off the six-foot-wide, highly travelled walkway, I stepped through the trees onto the sandy dirt trail. Just wide enough for one, it wandered through sections of the woods where I’d never before ventured.

I savored the sights: bright green leaves, backlit by the bright sunlight, downed trees with their intricate roots pointing in all directions, and a steep drop to the creek meandering a dozen or more feet below. Typical sights in this area, yet specific ones I had never seen. I reveled in God’s creation and the beauty He created.

By venturing onto a new pathway, I was rewarded with unexpected beauty. Yet, I see similar beauty whenever I walk the wider, more familiar paths. I realized that I had allowed myself to become immune to the beauty around me, just because seeing it often had made it become ordinary.

It seems this is true of my life, too. Sometimes I allow myself to become immune to the ordinary beauty around me. Do I even stop to notice the roses, let alone inhale their perfume? Do I appreciate the deep green of summer’s grass? Or hear the whisper of the wind rustling in the trees? How often do I pause to appreciate a child’s laughter or notice the color in a friend’s eyes?

Creator God, help me to slow down, appreciate, and thank you for the beauty all around me every day. The birds’ cheerful song, the vibrant flowers’ colors, the love in my husband’s eyes. Don’t allow them to become mundane in my life, but give me eyes to see Your amazing gifts surrounding me every day.

The Path Calls

Isaiah 43:19 NIV “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”

Lord, keep my feet always stepping on your path. Even when the way seems dark and confusing, let me trust in you to show me the path and keep my steps secure.

Trust in Him

But God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn’t come through.
― Francis Chan

Father, let me be bold in my faith. Show me how to trust you to guide me through even the most difficult of situations.

The Dung Beetle

As I walked the nature trails today, I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye. When I stopped and examined more closely, I saw a black beetle pushing a brown ball more than twice its size. I had heard about dung beetles, but had never seen one in person before. (Yes, there is a bug called “dung beetle.”) And yes, it actually rolls a ball of dung, and the ball is much larger than the beetle.

This poor beetle struggled to push his comparatively huge ball of dung. His back legs skittered all over the place, and he frequently fell. Once he fell, he rolled over quickly and headed right back to pushing his ball of dung.

I watched him struggle for a moment or two, and then continued my walk.

Believe it or not, I couldn’t stop thinking about that dung beetle. I couldn’t help but compare it to people. Obviously, we don’t literally push around balls of dung, but we do metaphorically carry our own dung around.

Think about it. We worry and fret over what might happen tomorrow. We almost make ourselves sick thinking of all the bad things that might happen in our lives. Yep, we roll our own ball of dung.

At other times, we add to our heavy load by griping and complaining. Whatever the weather, we wish it were something else. We don’t like this; we don’t like that. We fail to see the beauty in the simple things around us. We carry, or roll, a heavy burden of grumbling and negativity.

Our ball of dung grows as we add our anger. What someone says or does, or what we think someone else might be thinking makes our blood boil. We carry the burden of our anger with us every day. It weighs us down and saps our energy and our joy.

Like the dung beetle, we spend a lot of time pushing around our dung, carrying our heavy loads.

But God didn’t intend for us to carry heavy burdens; he didn’t intend for us to push around balls of dung. Jesus told us, “For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:30). Yet we gather up our heavy loads, our worries, our complaints, our anger, and whatever other burdens we add to the heavy load.

I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to quit rolling around all my collected burdens and give them to Jesus. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matt. 11:29 & 30).

Invite Him In

Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.
― C.S. Lewis