I was headed home from a quick trip to Phoenix—just a casual Yuma-to-Phoenix-and-back kinda day. I make the drive often enough that I’ve basically earned a PhD in avoiding Phoenix rush hour. I know the times. I know the tricks. I know the pain.

But not today, Satan.

A late doctor appointment threw off my whole rhythm, and just like that, I found myself smack dab in the middle of SR-347, in all its glory.  This road is famous for its traffic horror stories. Accidents. Miles of brake lights. Waiting so long you start questioning all your life choices. And guess what? I was living it.

Google Maps rerouted me onto a detour that everyone else had apparently found too. I landed in a two-mile line that hadn’t moved more than a car length in 15 minutes. And at the end of that line? A short light that turned green for maybe three cars at a time. Awesome.

Then I noticed something—cars up ahead were bailing from the line and turning left onto some small road that actually looked like it was going the right direction. Funny how my genius GPS missed that one.

I watched a few more try it. Should I? I hadn’t moved in forever, and I was losing patience fast. I crept up to the turn, paused for a second, and decided—yep. I’m doing it.

So off I went—FREEDOM! A few cars ahead of me, a few behind, all of us tearing across the desert like we knew exactly what we were doing (we didn’t).

We were flying—probably a little too fast—but the adrenaline was real. It felt like we were the ones who had outsmarted the system. No more sitting in that miserable line—we were making moves. Bold ones. Reckless ones. United in our desert detour dreams. 🤣😅 

Then the road started to… change.

We slowed down. Took a left turn (Uh… wrong way). Okay, not ideal, but surely someone up there knows where this is going, right? A few more miles in, the road turned to dirt… then I found myself avoiding the areas of deep sand. Cars ahead of me started swerving around giant holes and washouts. We passed what looked like shortcuts back toward town—but every single one was blocked with gravel mounds. That’s when it hit me: this wasn’t a shortcut. This was a full-blown detour into nowhere.

I’m in a Honda Accord, navigating potholes and sand traps like I’m in an off-road vehicle. What I would give to be in our truck, Big Red! I’m sweating. It’s been 30 minutes, and we are nowhere close to where we need to be. Whoever started this detour clearly had no idea where they were going. I feel betrayed.😩

Some cars turn around. They give up and go back. I question my decisions for a brief moment but then double down. I’ve committed. I ain’t no quitter.  

We slow to a crawl—15 MPH, dodging massive dips and MUD puddles. (Why is there MUD?? I am in the desert.) By this point, my car is filthy, my lungs are full of dust, and I’m questioning every life decision that led me here. I know I would’ve already made it through that light if I’d just stayed put.

Eventually, the road started to smooth out. The cars ahead picked up speed. And finally—after what felt like a lifetime in the desert wilderness—we hit pavement. A real road. Headed in the right direction. Back toward civilization. Just a casual hour and 20 minutes added to my drive.

But hey—I made it out. Covered in dust, slightly traumatized, a little salty… but in one piece.

The next day, while washing the mud off my car and my pride lol, I realized—God probably had something to say through all of this. Because sometimes, shortcuts aren’t the answer.

We love the path of least resistance. We try to bypass the hard stuff—anything that requires patience, discipline, persistence, or discomfort. If there’s an easier way, you better believe we’re looking for it.

You see it in kids all the time—they avoid hard things like it’s their job. But as adults? We should know better.

Shortcuts now usually mean consequences later.

Skip the hard conversations and healing now? You’ll face deep-rooted marriage issues and messy relationships later. Take the pills now instead of changing your habits? You might feel relief today, but you’ll pay for it with your health tomorrow. Swipe the card now and skip the discipline of budgeting? That moment of ease turns into months—or years—of stress, anxiety, and financial bondage.

When was the last time you chose the harder path on purpose? The road that builds something in you instead of just getting you out of something?

Think of Joseph (Old Testament guy- Genesis 37-50). His life was full of obstacles, delays, and straight-up battles—but he understood that the path of resistance was the one that formed him. God used the hard to prepare him for the holy. If he had taken the easy road, he wouldn’t have been ready for the calling God placed on his life.

The same is true for us. Are you letting God form you through the hard stuff? Or are you constantly scanning for an off-ramp? Sure—life might get easier if you avoid the challenge. 

But easier doesn’t mean better. And it definitely doesn’t mean you’ll be prepared for what’s ahead.

So learn from my dusty detour. THE PATH OF LEAST RESISTANCE might be tempting, but it’s not always the path God’s leading you on.

Go Girls, choose the hard road. Trust the process. Let it shape you.

The destination will still be there—and you’ll arrive stronger, wiser, and more ready than ever.