Chapter Three

The Pattern of Detours

Not long ago I came upon a wreck on a road that leads from our national office to our local church. It appeared that the wreck had happened only minutes before I arrived. A car was completely overturned in the middle of a lane, and another one had skidded off to the side. An ambulance had arrived, and police cars, lights blazing, circled the disaster zone.

I and the other cars barely moved at all. We came to a halt and then crawled, at best. We scooted instead of driving. When a police officer would wave his hand up ahead, it seemed like he gave us only inches to move at a time. I sat there for what felt like forever, only eventually making it past the accident and through the line of cars.

I had left someone else at the office earlier who had also planned to make the trip over for another meeting. He had been tied up at the time and said he would arrive a little late. However when I finally did get to the church, he had pulled into the parking lot ahead of me. I asked him how he got there so soon. Didn’t he come upon the same wreck that I had?

Actually, he had. But seeing the cars stalled ahead, he had taken his own detour and, as a result, beat me to the church.

He left later and arrived earlier, all because he chose a detour.

Sometimes we gain the wisdom to choose our own detours, but most of the time we are too caught up in just trying to make it—to push through—that we fail to recognize how a detour can actually take us further, faster. God knows the wisdom of detours, and so He uses them frequently on our behalf, forcing us down a path that is ultimately wiser—although at the time it may not appear that way.

God rarely takes us directly from where we are to where He wants us to go. More often than not, He disrupts the normal flow and directs us down a beaten path made up of unexpected curves, clefts, and challenges. And He most often does this without our consent.

That’s what happened to Joseph, the seventeen-year-old teenager who found his life turned upside down by sudden, adverse circumstances. We left him in the last chapter in a pit. He’s in a hole he can’t get out of—a situation he can’t resolve while facing a problem he cannot fix. In fact, this pit doesn’t even have any water. Not only can he not get out, but he doesn’t have the nourishment to keep him going while in it. He’s in what we would call a desperate situation, created by a toxic combination of his own family and his own immaturity. Here we have a royal kid about to be yanked from a royal mess in order to be made a slave, ultimately underneath a royal ruler.

That’s a detour of epic proportions.

Most detours, though, have twists and turns. You have to go up here and then come back down here after which you head over there in order to finally make it to the main road again. Detours take you out of the way. If they don’t, they aren’t a detour.

One thing you can always expect on a detour is the unexpected.

But there are a few things, which I call patterns, that you can almost always count on showing up as well. There are a couple of predictable scenarios in detours. The first of which is that detours nearly always include a test.

Detours and Testing

Let me begin by defining what I mean by test. A test, or trial, in the biblical context, can be defined as:

An adverse circumstance either created or allowed by God in order to reveal to us the pathway of development in preparation for His purpose.

Second Chronicles 32:31 tells us that one reason God will use a test in our lives is to first reveal what is in our hearts. We read, “When the ambassadors of Babylon’s rulers were sent to him to inquire about the miraculous sign that happened in the land, God left him to test him and discover what was in his heart.” Trials call your faith to the witness stand to testify to the condition of your spiritual health.

Trials call your faith to the witness stand to testify to the condition of your spiritual health.

God already knows what is in your heart. But oftentimes, you and I don’t. We can talk a good game, throw down spiritual platitudes, and even believe our own lies about ourselves sometimes. But the truth is the truth, and a test will always bring the truth to the surface. God knows that our hearts are deceitful and beyond cure (Jer. 17:9). Our hearts trick us, try us, and tempt us either to rely on ourselves too much or to even think too highly of who we are. In a test, God wants us to really see what is deep down inside of you and me. He wants us to know our capacity, both our potential and our limitations. Only when we know the truth can we address it, learn from it, and grow.

Every year I go the doctor for an annual physical exam. One part of the visit includes what is called a stress test. This is when the doctor puts me on a treadmill, after a nurse has attached all of these wires and devices to my chest, and asks me to walk. While walking he will increase the speed and the incline. This is because he wants to analyze the condition of my heart under various stressful situations.

I can tell my doctor all day long that I feel fine and that my heart is fine. But he’s not going to take my word for it. Even if I believe what I’m saying is true. The doctor only knows if my heart is healthy by looking at how my heart responds to a test. As I huff and puff and sweat and complain on that treadmill, the doctor gets a good glimpse at the condition of my heart. He doesn’t take my word for it. He looks at the paper and lets the data reveal the truth.

You and I can read our Bibles, go to church, participate in edifying conversations, and all the while feel that our spiritual hearts are fine. We can wave our hands in the air. Sing praises like everything is great. And we may even believe it ourselves. But God knows the true state of our heart, and He will often allow a test to reveal an accurate diagnosis. Not necessarily for His benefit, though, but for ours. He wants us to know the truth about ourselves—the good, the bad, and the ugly—because growth can only occur in a spirit of honesty.

God will often allow adverse circumstances, even painful circumstances, in our lives as a test in order to reveal, strengthen, and develop our hearts for His destiny. When you are going through a test, never mistake the hand of God for the hand of man.

Sure, as Joseph walked chained to the camels across the barren desert under the unforgiving sun, he could have blamed his brothers or even God. And we don’t really know what he felt at that time. It’s not recorded for us. So maybe he did.

But as Joseph matured through his detour over time, he eventually saw the hand of God guiding and directing it all. He didn’t say that the Ishmaelite slave traders took him to Egypt years later when he reflected on where he was. He said God brought him to that place.

Because God really did bring him to that place.

Sometimes detours develop us. But sometimes they reroute us to an entire new location we wouldn’t have even thought of going ourselves. It would be nice if God simply spoke to us like He did to Abraham and tell us to go to a land unknown, and we had the heart of Abraham and did it. But far too often we either fail to hear, or if we do hear, we fail to follow because it just doesn’t make sense. So God ties us up behind some camels, and He gets us there anyhow. He’s clever that way.

If you only see the camels, if you only see the ropes, if you only feel the hot sun or the hunger and emptiness night after night, and you miss seeing what God is doing, you will miss the divine purpose of the detour. God allows people to move us, shape us, and take us to our next step on the path He wants us to travel. So never think that just because it’s people you see that it isn’t God directing behind the scenes. God will often use people—even people in your family (even messed-up people in your family)—to move you to your destiny through a detour.

Joseph had many reasons to believe that God had abandoned him. Those feelings aren’t wrong. You shouldn’t feel guilt for responding to a pit with a question mark. Even the prophets were bold enough to question God. The prophet Jeremiah blamed God harshly when he wrote, “You deceived me, Lord, and I was deceived. You seized me and prevailed. I am a laughingstock all the time; everyone ridicules me” (Jer. 20:7). Even Christ asked why God had abandoned Him on the cross.

In your detours, remember that God is divine, but you are not. Emotions will go up and down, doubt is a natural response to life’s trials, and God is a big God, He can take our words. But also remember as you face these feelings in the darkness of the deepest pit that God uses tests and trials—even detours—for our ultimate good. Ask Him in those times to help your unbelief and to give you trust. Ask Him to open your eyes to see spiritually beyond the physical. Ask Him to show you what He is trying to improve. Like a hot iron on a wrinkled shirt, the heat produces something good.

Joseph had some wrinkles.

He bragged on himself.

Tattled on his brothers.

He was immature.

But the heat of the scorching sun on the long walk from his home to Egypt no doubt began a process of smoothing his pride with the grace of humility and transforming his conceit into a confidence in God instead. God will place the hot iron of His molding grace on the wrinkles of our souls when He needs to. He does this because we have been created in His image and He desires that we reflect Him well. He will allow the fire of testing to bring steam to our hearts.

He’s not being mean, though you might feel like He’s being mean. I’m sure Joseph might have felt like He was being mean. God just wants the wrinkles ironed out so that He looks good when He identifies with you or me publicly in His name.

There is a true story that is told of a loggerhead turtle. A loggerhead turtle is a huge turtle, one of those mammoth ones you might see in a zoo. In this story, the female was getting ready to give birth, so she climbed up onto the sand dune in order to lay her turtle eggs. But after she did, she became disoriented and was not walking back to the water for some reason. That would have been the natural thing for her to do. But instead, she began walking further out on the sand.

Seeing this, some of the rangers came, and they put shackles on the loggerhead turtle because she was too big for them to lift. They tied up her legs and flipped her on her back. Then they attached a chain to the shackles and began to drag her upside down with a four-wheeler back to the water.

Now, this turtle’s life has been jerked around, messed with, and she’s no doubt in some discomfort, despite the best attempts by the rangers to be gentle with her. But in order for her life to be saved and her destiny preserved, that was the only viable option. If the rangers stood and shouted at this turtle to turn around, she wouldn’t have understood. They could not have lured her toward the water with compelling hand motions. So they did what they had to do to get her where she needed to go.

Yes, God’s Spirit does speak to us, and He can guide us with His Word. But more often than not, we, as the psalmist prayed, need to be led like the turtle—pulled, pushed, prodded. We read, “Do not be like a horse or mule, without understanding, that must be controlled with bit and bridle or else it will not come near you” (Ps. 32:9).

God cares too deeply for us to let us keep going down the wrong path or in the wrong direction. And He will drop an unexpected journey—a detour—in our way to get us turned around. Sometimes that may mean being flipped on our back or shackled on our feet. Sometimes that may mean being disoriented even within our own disorientation. Sometimes that might mean being dragged along until we finally feel the familiarity of our home. Once the turtle felt the water, she could be untied and put right side up again. Once she realized where she was, she was set free.

But in order for her to get to her destiny, she had to be flipped, turned, and dragged—just like Joseph from the pit to the camel-pull. God enters our situations in detours, and at times that requires a jerk, flip, tweaks, and pulls. We may yell in our hearts, “What are You doing to me, God? Where are You taking me? Why can’t I understand?”

God answers, often too quietly for us to hear over our own shouts, “I’m taking you exactly where you need to be. Trust Me.”

Friend, I don’t know what pit you are in, or what path you are on. I don’t know who did what to get you there or how long it’s been. But I do know a promise from Someone who never lies. God will work it out for your good when you align your heart under His purpose and calling (Rom. 8:28).

Trust Him.

He has a destination up ahead for you.

And when you get there, you’ll know you are home.