Detours are part of life…and following dreams.
Five years ago I encountered that reality on my 1500-mile journey that was supposed to follow the Mississippi River but often didn’t.
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Thursday and Friday of last week I scarcely saw the river.
I trust that it’s there, that I’ll meet it again at some point. But right now the river’s out of sight.
We’ve lost sight of the river for various reasons along the way. Sometimes it’s intentional—we chose the Paul Bunyan Trail for beauty and safety. Sometimes it’s unavoidable—on some stretches there simply isn’t a road anywhere near the river. And occasionally there’s an unplanned detour that knocks us off course.
Dreams work a lot like that. Ideally we’d like to follow a certain course, but life’s rarely ideal or predictable.
As a teacher I knew kids who grew frustrated with school because it seemed to keep them from getting on with their plans. But sometimes a class or a degree that seems like a detour really leads to the opportunity we’re seeking. “Wants” and “needs” aren’t always located on the same path.
Most wise leaders know enough to call “time out” occasionally. Retreats, conferences, and vacations appear momentarily unproductive, but they’re necessary to re-fill the tank. Charging full-speed in single-minded pursuit of a dream might seem like the quickest path to success, but it rarely works out like that. Diversions and breaks actually lead to long-term success when you’re chasing a big dream.
And sometimes life just knocks you off course. Illness, financial setbacks, family issues—all sorts of detours can pop up where you didn’t expect them. But they’re only detours. Just like the river, the dream’s still there. Hope tells you there’s a path that eventually leads back to it.
You just have to believe and trust and keep moving. Because one’s thing’s certain—sitting still and complaining won’t get you back to your dream.
One other thing—you can’t look at the roads away from the river as wasted time, something to simply endure. Those roads have their own beauty and their own lessons.
My map tells me I’ll ride a few miles tomorrow before I encounter the river. Those miles are part of this amazing journey, and I don’t want to wish them away because they don’t fit my preconceived expectations.
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QUESTION: When is it a detour, and when is it the path God intended all along?
Ever wonder whether you’re fussing with getting past a perceived sidetrack when it might be just where God want you to be?
Me too.