Central Abbotsford

Last week, Andrea and I had a wonderful opportunity to travel to a few different destinations in the province of Quebec to celebrate the occasion of our 20th anniversary. We had a great time full of good food, perfect weather, beautiful scenery, and abundant people-watching. And, of course, an opportunity or two for me to learn a lesson.

In the middle of our week, we spent a few days in the Eastern Townships of the province, southeast of Montreal near the Vermont border. It is a very pretty and pastoral landscape; very different from the geographical area bounded by mountains and oceans that we here in southwestern British Columbia are used to. 

On one of the days, we drove for an outing to a nearby township, about a 40-minute drive from where we were staying. When we set back out for our hotel, instead of just backtracking along the same roads that I used to get there, I fired up Google Maps to help me navigate the unfamiliar surroundings. And good thing I did! The trusty electronic assistant let me know that I should use a different route to return, in order to “avoid a road closure”. Isn’t technology wonderful!

So, I set out along the new path that the phone told me to drive (I am nothing if not good at following directions). Interestingly, the first turn that I had to make (about twenty seconds into our drive) was a left that forced me to drive around a barrier marked “ROAD CLOSED – LOCAL TRAFFIC ONLY” blocking the entirety of my lane. But, hey, this is the way Google told me to go! Andrea voiced some doubts, but I seemed to be vindicated in my approach as we continued on for several kilometres with nary a road closure in sight.

Eventually, we were instructed “in four hundred metres, turn left on Chemin de Glen”. As a formerly-fluent French speaker, I did delight in the electronic voice’s inability to correctly pronounce words such as “chemin”. What I delighted in less was the fact that Chemin de Glen, as it happened, was the road to which the earlier sign referred.

However, I had other options! A quick U-turn allowed me access to another road that surely would serve as a quick detour. That road quickly went from nicely paved to a more rugged dirt road, but a recalibration of my navigational assistant assured me that this new path would only add about five minutes to the drive. Plus, we’d probably get to see some more nice scenery! Arguably a win-win.

Unfortunately, it seems that Google’s failure to keep tabs on exactly which rural Quebec roads are closed at any given moment was not merely a one-off accident. When we approached the next appointed turn, we were met with another ROAD CLOSED sign. Again.

Now, the fact that I am writing this newsletter means that we were not terminally abandoned in the hills halfway between Montreal and Sherbrooke. Eventually we found the right detour that got us back on the path to familiar territory, and though it took about 20 minutes more than expected, we got to our destination. 

Here’s the thing, though. I was confident of my plan when I set out. I had seemingly done the appropriate level of research. The path was laid out before me. How did it go wrong? I ignored the obvious sign in front of me. 

One of the most curious passages of Scripture to me is in the sixteenth chapter of Acts. Paul, Timothy, and Silas are out on their missionary journeys. They are reasoning and preaching from town to town, planting churches as they go, and the Lord is growing the church in amazing ways. They are making plans that seem to be well-thought-out and intentional. But then verses 6 and 7 tell us this: “And they went through the region of Phrygia and Galatia, having been forbidden by the Holy Spirit to speak the word in Asia. And when they had come up to Mysia, they attempted to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus did not allow them.” 

I don’t know what the first-century equivalent of a ROAD CLOSED sign was, but apparently Paul and his crew both recognized and heeded it. Even if their plan (to preach the gospel in a new place) was seemingly a good one. Even if common sense and everything leading up to that point suggested that they were doing the right thing.

I have long wondered how it was that the Spirit communicated His travel prohibitions to Paul and friends. Did they push back? Did they make an effort to get around the ban, only to realize that there was no thwarting the Spirit’s power? I suppose I will find out at some point in eternity, so all I can go with is what the Scripture teaches, which is that, by some means, Paul was able to discern that the Spirit had a detour planned for him, and he submitted his own plans to God’s.

We may have good plans for our lives. We may have researched them well. They may seem to make good, practical, sense. Our friends might think they’re good ideas. Two questions then arise: first, are you listening for the Spirit’s prompting? Are you reading the word, spending time in prayer and silence to allow Him to speak to you? And second, if you sense that God is calling you to some different plan, and this plan does not appear to be contradicted by His revealed word in Scripture, are you prepared to follow it? Will you heed the blocked road and accept the detour, or stubbornly press on at your own peril?

It is not unwise to make plans. But it is unwise to hold them so tightly that we blind ourselves to signs of something greater.

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit” – yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.”

– James 4:13-15