ThroughSample

You pack the vehicle the night before. You’ve done it so many times that you know exactly which container fits best where. Early the next morning, you’ll be able to stick in the last few bags, and the family will hit the road for another holiday trip. Usually it’s to the cabin in the mountains, but now you’ve been offered a week at the beach. A quiet little spot, with no cell phone signal.

The sun hasn’t yet risen when you wake the family. They stumble into the car, and you head off. The drowsy anticipation of lazy days on the beach with a good book becomes sharper as you drive. Your wife dreams of the fish you’ll eat that evening, while the kids chatter in the back seat.

Then, a roadblock. “Sorry, sir, but the road’s damaged from the storm last night. You’ll need to take that back road.” You turn hesitantly down the dusty path which winds its way down into the valley. Only a few other tyre tracks line the road.

“It’s okay,” you say. “We’ll still get there. I’m pretty sure I know where this road ends up.” But half an hour later, you’re not so sure anymore, and the kids are getting edgy.

“I think we should have taken that left fork,” your wife says.

“Dad, we should be going in that direction,” adds the teenager.

The stones flick up beneath the car, slamming into the metal.

“You said we’d be there by now,” whimpers your daughter behind you.

We’re not very good at coping with detours. For many of us, life is about the next goal to be achieved, the next box to be ticked. Anything that detracts from that is a hindrance.

We idealise the future we’d like to have, and all our energies go towards achieving that goal. We try to move in a linear path through life, keeping the road as straight as possible, towards that ever-elusive target. We apply for jobs that we think will provide the means. We do what we can for our children to ensure that they have the best future. We give ourselves a frequent mental checklist just to see where we are on our planned path of success.

But what happens when we hit a detour? And what happens when that detour throws us into an inhospitable, unpredictable place? It’s only natural that we keep looking back with longing to that original road along which we were travelling. If only I could get back there, we believe, then life would be okay again. The problem, though, is that in most cases we never will. Especially in those moments which dramatically alter our lives.

That’s when we need to make peace with the new route. To realise that the detour isn’t some path running parallel to our real life, but now it is our real life. Instead, we need to start noticing the streams and mountains, the sunrises and sunsets, the friendly and gentle people who inhabit this new road. It’s about being in the moment, in that place, not about some spot in the distance towards which we’re constantly striving.

Regret is an empty emotion.

It’s virtually impossible to undo a situation. Longing for a previous time, a road we once walked before, can’t be recreated. It’s about making peace with the new road. About relishing the fresh relationships we form as we walk alongside others we meet. It’s about taking joy in the daily experiences which come our way, and of enjoying the unexpected views which open up with each bend in the road. Above all, it’s about taking hold of God’s promise over our lives: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Some thoughts to ponder:

• Do you still long for a time which has passed and which you're never likely to return to?
• How can you make peace with the fact that the detour you're on may well be your new main path?