Rethinking "Wrong" Turns

I realized something very important recently: There's more than one way to get to Baltimore. Shocking, I know. 

You see, I grew up in a small town. I never drove on roads that were bigger than 2 lanes on each side. Maybe sometimes when I would visit my cousins in Buffalo. But for the most part, I prefer to stick with Pennsylvania roads. They make me feel more comfortable. So you can understand why I might get stressed out when faced with bigger roads and more intense traffic when I visit my friend Megan in Baltimore. In fact, I wondered if my stress levels might inhibit me from continuing to visit her. A very sad thought indeed.

But then my fiancé Jason said, "You're not thinking clearly, Sarah. There's more than one way to get to Baltimore." It was like a lightbulb moment for me. I hadn't been thinking clearly. Why did I get it in my head that I had to power through those intense highways if I wanted to visit Megan? And then an even bigger realization hit: I had been living my life with the mentality that if I wanted to get anywhere, I needed to take the fastest route. It felt almost wrong to take any other way. 

If you know me at all, you will note the strangeness of the fact that I had adopted such a mentality. A number of friends call me a "snail." It first started when my friend Krystle was trying to hurry another friend, Tori, and I along after Bible study one day. Krystle is a fast mover, so it's unsurprising that she grew impatient with our slowness. From many yards ahead, she called back, "Come on snails!" Tori just told me about a song that talks about how "Snails see the benefits, the beauty in every inch," so we didn't take it as an insult. We made it part of our identity. We've been known to say we are "snailing" when we are moving slowly. Or if we need to go somewhere, we must build in some "snail time," as a buffer for our slowness. 

What I've been realizing though is this: It's not wrong for Krystle to be a fast mover, and it's not wrong for me to be a snail. I think the hard part for us as humans is to not assume that one of these ways of doing things is wrong. Both have value, and both have different types of benefits associated with them.  It's not wrong to want to get from one place to another quickly in order to maximize productivity. And it's not wrong to slow down and enjoy conversations or the beauty of your surroundings. In fact, both are good, and both are valid. 

It wouldn't be wrong for me to take the fastest route to Baltimore if I needed to get there as quickly as possible. But it also wouldn't be wrong for me to take a more scenic route if I wanted to enjoy the serene beauty of the landscape. Instead, I am free to evaluate the situation, what is needed, what would help me, and what would help those around me. 

So recently, when I found myself in Baltimore after a worship conference, I decided that I would finally put this new realization into practice and take the scenic route back to Pennsylvania. I didn't have anywhere I needed to be, and the flowering trees were so lovely that I felt like I would be more likely to enjoy them more if I could drive a little slower. 

Part way through the trip, my GPS gave me some confusing directions, and I ended up getting off the route. I began to beat myself up for making this mistake, for making such a stupid wrong turn. It set my arrival time back a few minutes, and I was mad at myself for that too. But then I began to realize that I wasn't truly believing the idea that had sent me on that route in the first place: There's more than one way to get somewhere. And the fastest way is not necessarily the best. It depends on what your goal is. And my goal was to enjoy the drive. 

So I took heart in the fact that my GPS would reroute me and make sure that I got where I wanted to go. And I realized that God was directing all of this anyway. As I passed by beautiful farm houses and lovely open fields, I wondered if He purposely allowed me to make that "wrong" turn just so I could be further enthralled with the beauty He wanted to show me along the way. It made me think it wasn't really a "wrong" turn after all. And if it wasn't a "wrong" turn, I could enjoy the journey for what it was. Different in some ways than the route the GPS suggested, with its own set of negative elements, but with its own set of positives too. And if I was too busy berating myself for all of the mistakes I made to get myself there, I would never be able to truly appreciate the beauty of the road that I was on. 

That trip did more for me than I ever could have anticipated. It reminded me of how I want to live. I want to delight in the way that God has made me and the story He is writing with my life. I want to value the fact that God has made others differently, while still making choices that are most suitable for the way He has made me. Whenever possible, I want to embrace that slower path and behold the beauty along the way, even in the midst of what seems like a "wrong" turn. I want to see "wrong" turns and obstacles as another part of this grand adventure and to believe that things will go far better when I embrace those too. I want to choose to anticipate the fact that difficulties and unexpected surprises are part of what makes the story interesting. And I always want to look forward to whatever will happen next, because this surely is a beautiful, heartbreaking, gloriously painful, and wonderfully staggering life.