On the road trip that is life, there are two kinds of detours: those we chose and those chosen for us. How’s your road trip going? Are you on a detour? On my life’s road trip, I once chose a detour and got off the correct road. This is the story of that adventure.
I grew up in a dysfunctional family. Everyone’s family is dysfunctional in some way, some worse than others. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being perfection, my family was probably a 4. Because my mother did not have good health, the energy in our home went to her in an effort to keep her happy and calm. My dad had his own business which meant that he worked Monday to Saturday. On Sunday we went to church. This family structure didn’t leave a lot of room for me and my needs.
I grew up, discovered boys and started dating. I found a substitute for the attention I yearned for at home. In my freshman year of high school, I began dating a boy who I dated off and on until we were juniors when we dated steadily. One thing led to another and, by the end of our junior year, we were pregnant. In my family and at that time, the only options were to get married or place the baby for adoption. We opted to get married. We were 17 years old.
Being pregnant was not what I had wanted. I was raised that this was the worst thing that I could do. I had failed in a social sense and I had failed in a spiritual sense. I was a follower of Christ. I went to church every Sunday. I was a member of the youth group and the youth choir. I came from a good family and I was a good student. I had let everyone down: my parents, myself, my friends, and, worst of all, God.
I hadn’t just taken a detour; I had gotten off the correct road altogether and was traveling down the wrong road.
So what could I do? I decided to make up for the bad thing by doing good things. I continued going to church. I taught Sunday School and volunteered at church for anything that needed to be done. To keep my secret, I lied. I lied about my age. I avoided talking about weddings. I didn’t want anyone to know the real me and what I had done.
This was my state of mind and spirit for twenty-five years.
Until one day God got my attention. I was reading Psalm 51, the psalm David wrote after his indescretion with Bathsheba, a psalm I had read a hundred times. Suddenly I saw that all the work trying to make up for what I had done was not necessary. God had forgiven me and redeemed the terrible thing I had done, getting pregnant without being married.
Up to that time, I had been driving down the road in the dark, checking the map constantly, and then second guessing the directions. That day the sun came out. I discovered that I was on the correct road; I needed to stop driving according to my own rules. It was time to stop doing and just be.
Are you on a detour of your own choosing? Pull over on the side of the road. Check the map. Is it time to get on the correct road again?
I hope you’ll be with me in the next post when we arrive at this road trip’s destination.
Woodpile Kitty 
Kay, I know you think you took the wrong road but I still feel things happen for a reason. Without your detour we wouldn’t have been blessed with your fantastic son and wonderful marriage. I’ll always be grateful to have you for my sister-in-law.
Love you!
Dorothy
I agree. It was the correct road, I just took a wrong turn to get there. I am blessed by my marriage, my kids and my three wonderful sisters-in-law. Thanks for following my blog.
Kay, you and I have even more in common than we ever realized. My story is similar in some ways and a bit different in others. I have still not been able to talk (or write) about it publicly, since very few people (except those very close to me that I have shared it with) know. Perhaps I will blog about it in third person fiction… Still praying about it, although praise God, I, like you, am forgiven! You are very special!
Kathy, for me, coming clean about my past helped me work through it in unexpected ways. Keeping it inside was toxic like an infection which begins to heal when the pus is allowed to come out. Sorry for the gross picture, but spiritually that’s what happens. God gave us language so we can get out all the things out that are inside, the good and the bad. Coming clean helped me to get clean.