This Is Not a Detour: When the Lord Directs Our Steps Through the Unexpected
"The Lord directs our steps."
Such a familiar truth. Yet, in that moment, those five little words carried a depth I hadn't considered before. We often think of the Lord directing our steps in terms of where He's taking us. We pray earnestly for direction when making important decisions, choosing which road to travel, or wondering what God has planned for our unknown future.
But what about the rugged, unforgiving roads we would never choose?
The unexpected diagnosis. The devastating loss. The carefully laid plans that unravel before our eyes. Those bewildering moments when life takes a turn so sharp we can scarcely catch our breath.
We innocently think of these unexpected turns as detours, unwelcome obstacles, or frustrating roadblocks that stand between us and the life we had envisioned. Sometimes, the roadblocks are there because we've stubbornly wandered from the path God intended for us to follow.
But what if some of the roads we've been desperately trying to avoid are the very roads God has deliberately chosen for us to walk?
What if what we perceive as an inconvenient detour is actually part of His divine design?
He Leads Me
I've read Psalm 23 countless times over the years, but there's something about the way David describes the Shepherd's leading that takes on an entirely different meaning when we consider the roads God chooses for us.
"He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake." (Psalm 23:3 ESV)
What a comforting picture! We can almost imagine the lush, green pastures, the gentle sound of still waters, and the peaceful contentment of sheep resting safely beneath the watchful eye of their shepherd. It's the kind of journey we would gladly choose for ourselves.
David doesn't stop there. In the very next verse, the scenery changes dramatically.
"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me..." (Psalm 23:4 ESV)
Wait! What happened to those peaceful pastures and still waters? Suddenly, we're walking through a dark, foreboding valley where danger seems to lurk around every bend. Yet David never suggests that the Shepherd has lost His way or that he has somehow wandered beyond His care. The valley is simply another part of the journey.
Here's what I find especially beautiful. Notice how David's words change as he enters the valley. In the peaceful pastures, he speaks about the Shepherd: "He leads me." But in the valley, he speaks directly to Him: "You are with me."
Isn't that remarkable? Somewhere along that shadowy stretch of road, the conversation becomes more intimate. The Shepherd is no longer simply guiding his steps; His presence gives him courage to keep walking.
Now I can almost picture it. The Shepherd who walked ahead of me, faithfully leading me along the path He had chosen, is now walking beside me, tenderly holding my hand as we make our way through the darkest stretch of the journey (Isaiah 41:13). When fear threatens to overwhelm me, He shelters me beneath the shadow of His wings (Psalm 91:4). When the way becomes so obscured that I can scarcely see where to place my next footstep, He is once again the light before me, illuminating the way forward.
Scripture also tells us that God is our rear guard (Isaiah 58:8). Think about the Israelites standing at the Red Sea with Pharaoh's army closing in behind them. The pillar of cloud that had been leading them suddenly moved to the rear, positioning itself between God's people and the approaching enemy (Exodus 14:19–20). The very presence that had guided them through the wilderness now stood between them and the danger they couldn't escape.
Ahead of us to guide us. Beside us to comfort us. Behind us to protect us.
What a beautiful picture of the Shepherd's faithful care! We may not understand why He has chosen a particular road, and we certainly cannot see every danger or difficulty that lies ahead. Perhaps that's a mercy in itself. Sometimes we wouldn't willingly take the journey if we knew what it would require of us, but wherever the road leads, we are never beyond His watchful presence.
The valley reveals the all-encompassing nature of His presence.
The Wilderness Was the Way
One of the clearest examples of God's deliberate direction is found in the Israelites' journey out of Egypt. After generations of slavery, they were finally free, and the Promised Land lay ahead of them. Surely, after everything they had endured, the Lord would lead them along the quickest, easiest route to their long-awaited destination.
But He didn't.
Exodus 13:17–18 tells us that God intentionally avoided the shorter road through the land of the Philistines because He knew the people might turn back to Egypt if they encountered war. Instead, He led them by way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea. What might have looked like an unnecessary detour was actually the route God had chosen for their good.
Just when you might think the journey couldn't become any more bewildering, God gave Moses another set of instructions. In Exodus 14:1–4, He told the Israelites to turn back and camp by the sea, placing them in a position where Pharaoh would believe they were wandering aimlessly, trapped in the wilderness.
Can you imagine? They've barely escaped Egypt, and now they're standing with a vast sea before them and Pharaoh's army closing in behind them. From their limited perspective, the road had led them straight into disaster. God hadn't miscalculated a single step. He had already declared what He intended to accomplish, even though His people couldn't possibly imagine how He would deliver them.
Isn't that so often our struggle? We assume that if God is directing our steps, the road should make sense. We expect progress to look like forward movement, not an unexpected turn that seems to carry us farther away from everything He has promised. Yet the wilderness was not evidence that God had lost control of their journey. Neither was the seemingly impossible situation at the Red Sea. Both were part of a route He had deliberately chosen.
The God who designed the path also knew exactly what His people would need to walk it. He provided a pillar of cloud to guide them by day and fire to illuminate their way by night. Later, when hunger and thirst threatened to overwhelm them, He provided manna from heaven and water in the wilderness. Even their clothing did not wear out during those long years of wandering (Deuteronomy 8:4).
Think about that. The same God who led them into a wilderness where they had no earthly means of sustaining themselves had already made provision for their every need.
How often have we looked at the overwhelming circumstances before us and cried, "Lord, I can't do this! How am I supposed to bear this?" We become so consumed with what we think we lack that we forget Who has promised to sustain us.
In Him, there is no lack. The Israelites couldn't make manna fall from heaven or draw water from a rock. They couldn't part the Red Sea or hold back Pharaoh's advancing army. Those things were never theirs to accomplish. He only wanted them to look to Him, to trust Him. The powerless gods they had known in Egypt could never provide what the living God could.
There is tremendous comfort in knowing that the God who deliberately chose their wilderness route faithfully sustained them through it.
The God who designed the journey also made provision for every step.
He Was There Before I Knew
I know something about walking a road I never would have chosen for myself. The night before I was diagnosed with heart failure, I was alone in a hotel room, completely unaware of just how sick I was—or how close I was to dying.
That night, I had a dream. I walked up to Jesus, and He spoke four words to me.
"I am sustaining you."
Not I will sustain you. Not I have sustained you.
I am sustaining you.
The very next day, I learned that my heart was failing.
I have thought about those words countless times since. Before I understood the seriousness of my condition, before I knew the difficult road that lay ahead, Jesus had already assured me of His sustaining presence. In that historic hotel room in Dallas, Texas, where I could have died alone, He came to me.
Although my health has improved tremendously, I am still walking this road. There are uncertainties I cannot resolve and circumstances I cannot control, but there is a peace that comes from knowing Him, the One who is sustaining me through it all.
Looking back, I realize that His words were not a promise that I would never face another frightening diagnosis or endure another extremely difficult day. They were an assurance that whatever lay ahead, I would not have to walk through it without Him.
He was sustaining me before I even knew I needed sustaining.
The Path Has a Purpose
I've often wondered how differently we might respond to life's unexpected turns if we could see beyond the immediate difficulty and glimpse what God was accomplishing along the way.
Consider Joseph. Betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery, falsely accused, and forgotten in prison. I imagine there were countless nights when he wondered how his life had wandered so far from the dreams God had given him. Yet years later, standing before the very brothers who had betrayed him, Joseph could say, "As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good" (Genesis 50:20 ESV). Notice that Joseph didn't pretend what happened to him wasn't evil. It was, but the evil intentions of others could not prevent God from accomplishing His purpose.
Or consider Ruth. What began as a heartbreaking story of loss and widowhood became part of a much greater story of redemption. As Ruth went about the ordinary task of gleaning grain in a field, she could not have known that her seemingly insignificant steps would lead her into the family line of King David—and ultimately, Jesus Himself.
Neither Joseph nor Ruth could see the full story while they were living through its most painful chapters. And neither can we.
Romans 8:28 reminds us that God works all things together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. The very next verse reveals something important about that good: His desire is to conform us to the image of His Son (Romans 8:29).
What if the purpose of the road isn't always to change our circumstances, but to change us along the way?
I think about the prayers I've prayed along some of the most difficult stretches of my life. How desperately I've wanted God to remove the obstacle, heal the hurt, or open a different door. And while I believe He can change any circumstance in an instant, I've discovered that sometimes His greatest work is happening in my own heart as I walk through it. I'm learning to trust Him more deeply, surrender more completely, and recognize His voice more clearly. I'm discovering a tenderness toward others that I might never have known without walking through my own valleys.
That doesn't make the pain pleasant or the loss any less heartbreaking, but it reminds me that suffering does not have to be meaningless in the hands of a faithful God.
And when I cannot see what He is doing, I can trust the One who is leading all the more.
The road may not be what I would have chosen, but it is most definitely worth what God is doing in me as I walk it.
This Is Not a Detour
I keep thinking about that conversation with my sister and the five little words that opened my eyes to something I had never quite considered this way before.
"The Lord directs our steps."
Not just the steps that lead us into wonderful opportunities, answered prayers, and long-awaited blessings. Not just the roads lined with green pastures and still waters, but also the unfamiliar roads that wind through valleys we never imagined entering and wilderness seasons we desperately wish we could avoid.
I do not pretend to understand why some journeys are so painfully difficult. There are losses too deep for easy explanations and questions that may remain unanswered. I am learning that I do not have to understand every turn in the road to trust Him.
At this point in my journey, my prayer is now, "Okay, God, You have led me here. Thank You for trusting me with this journey. May You be glorified in it!"
Those words do not mean the road is easy or that I never wish things were different. There are still days when the journey feels painfully steep, when my strength seems insufficient, and when I would gladly trade the uncertainty for a glimpse of what lies ahead. But I've discovered that surrender is not about understanding every step. It's about trusting.
Even here, on an often downright scary road I never would have chosen, I want my life to bring Him glory.
I do not know what waits around the next bend. I may stumble, grow weary, or find myself standing before another seemingly impossible crossing, but I know Who goes before me, Who walks beside me, and Who stands behind me.
The Lord directs my steps.
And wherever He leads, I want to keep walking with Him.
I want to walk on the water.
Scripture quotations are from the English Standard Version (ESV). For Bible translation attribution and copyright information, visit Go Be Salty's Copyright Page.
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