Our Detour

A friend shared a story with me recently that seems to hit home more and more each day. She talked about an analogy of road maps and destinations. She said that when we are given our assignment, it may vary slightly from someone else's, but all assignments end up in London.

You excitedly await the day for yours. You become fluent in English and study the various maps of England.

You research places to stay and things to do, customs, and how to succeed at your assignment in England. Your assignment comes and it's time for you to board the plane.

You sleep the long haul and eventually, you awake to the wheels touching down on the pavement of the runway. You feel elated to finally begin this journey and you're ready to hit all of the major stops on your itinerary, to view the beautiful countryside, acquire the English accent, and test out the Tube.

However, when you deboard the flight, it comes to your attention that there's been a slight change, a detour of sorts: You have landed in Holland.

Of course, Holland is still beautiful. It's known for its breathtaking cherry reds, firey oranges, and sunset yellow tulips, its delicious chocolates and pastries, cute wooden shoes, and rustic windmills. And . . . it's only located across the water.

But . . . a detour, thus, it is. Your prior training, your maps, your itinerary, your language skills, and pretty much everything you know is thrown out the window. You are forced to use your feelers through the dark, pressing forward toward the light, in hopes of reaching your new destination.

Just because the destination is changed, though, it does not mean it's wrong either. It's simply the route you now find yourself on.

Most detours are pretty easy to spot. Maybe a child is born with missing limbs, or a physical/mental disability like Down Syndrome. Sometimes, a detour comes in other forms like autism or bipolar mania or other issues. You cannot necessarily see the physical proof that this child struggles with anything, but you know there are battles to be fought within.

With two out of three of my children now, I have found myself on a detour. This is not a secret. It is not shameful. I do not know why or how or what, but we are here. One is headed back to London now, but the other one is well-engrained on his route in Holland.

Each day, we face something new, something unknown, something to overcome. Some days prove great challenges, because those around us focus their energies on London. They want to know why we don't speak English all the time, why we expend our energies in the floral industry, and why we would spend time across the water in that strange land.

Holland's not so bad, though. There are beauties and treasures within that I unlock each day. We still feel happiness and love and joy.

On the flip side, there are times, though, when I feel so frustrated that I want to pull my hair out, because I only know the landscape and the geography of England. Sometimes I just want to ride the Tube, rather then peddle on my bike. I'm not so good at Holland--perhaps, that's why much of my time is here.

But I will not give up.

Charity evokes patience, love, suffering, humility, kindness, and submission. Just as I'm sure we could develop these virtues in London, we will find them in Holland. And absolutely, 100 percent, I know that He qualifies those whom He calls. We may not be equipped with all of the know-how or tools, but we know enough. We have access to inspiration and revelation through the tools of prayer, fasting, and study to learn/know which way to go. He loves us and did not send us here alone.