Last Sunday, the youth pastor at River Church played a documentary filming the wives and children of the martyrs from the movie End of the Spear. I leave out details, because I don’t remember where they were or the exact people group they had a heart for, and I don’t have time to look it up, today. What I do remember is something one of the wives shared in the video.
She reflected: God could have done anything to stop us, to prevent us from going there. But He didn’t, and so I know we were supposed to be there. This was timely wisdom.
Four years ago, I burgeoned my way back to the twin cities, not lacking in vision and planning–I’m usually too far ahead of myself in these areas, however greatly lacking in skill of follow-through. And so I was. There. Unwilling to step out in many ways, unable to step out in others, yet totally provided for by opportunity which ended up to be a most blessed experience of my life. There were many things I should have done and some I should have not, but there was one aspect which has, over time, become so very clear: The Lord Moved Me Forward. Even when taking a detour, a path is not marked to take you backward or to merely take you in a circle–a detour leads you ahead, closer to your destination. This detour…which may in fact not be a detour but that is what I will call it…proved to be fruitful and will in the years to come, as I right some things, as I utilize my connections, and as I stand upon the foundations and skills which were gained.
I have another detour. I took the turn last September. The place I was to attend made me nauseous for whatever reasons, so I left. And it felt good! Boy, I could sleep again! I was free to once again learn (which is odd considering the details). So in January, I took the left turn, I grabbed a new opportunity by the hand and ran with it. I met dear, sweet people. I found a college ministry, though small, was very much faithful and thriving and effective. I was able to pick up a cello and meet a teacher who not only shared my philosophy of learning, but allowed me to live by it, granting me the freedom to pace myself and giving just the right amount of pressure to keep me moving forward. I loved it!
But, as happens with every detour, there comes an end. There comes the kairos moment where the current of the former and real road once again takes shape before you, and you must, in order to get where you are going, jump back in. This can seem confusing at first, but you know it when you know it when you know it. It’s right. It’s where you must go to keep moving ahead. It would be pointless to fear future detours, but be great in wisdom to accept the new stride and see where it leads. Time may go faster than you think.
Indecisiveness is not the power at play.