It was the last leg of a multi-state vacation to see the kids and grandkids. The first week of the trip was filled with little passengers who were happy and kept mostly occupied. After we dropped them off at home in Colorado, it was just my man and me for the last eight hours. We’ve been driving this trip from Southern Colorado back to Phoenix over three decades. Our kids grew up reluctantly gazing at the barren landscapes on the Navajo reservation as we’d fly by. “Look outside,” I’d say optimistically, “there’s so much to see in nature.” Occasionally, an unexpected rock formation would jut straight out of the desert floor, breaking up the monotony of dirt and tumbleweeds.

I remember one November and Shiprock had a light sprinkle of snow. My dessert-infested mind immediately imagined this gigantic rock formation as a mountain of dark chocolate cake, lightly dusted with powdered sugar. Shiprock never looked so delicious.

Earlier that morning, Mark suggested we change things up and take this route over our usual one. We were halfway home, anxious to finish the trip as we rocketed down Highway 160, when we suddenly hit an unexpected road closure and detour. Any detour I’ve encountered usually involved a couple of quick turns and then back on course, so I wasn’t terribly concerned.

This wasn’t the case here, in the middle of nowhere, on the reservation.

A road we had never traversed opened before us. At first it was more barren moonscape with little to look at, and then it wasn’t. About the time I wanted to whine about being delayed and banished to Pluto, came indescribable rock formations that I’d never encountered before.

I couldn’t take pictures fast enough; after all, my man had no intention of dipping below 85 mph, since we were already losing time. I did the best I could as my hair flew every which way in the wind, trying to avoid photos that could aptly be named Navajo Smear or Desert Blur. I tried to capture what I could and edit later, and I found myself awed by the unexpected beauty hidden in a barren desert.

I thanked God out loud for this rare, captivating delight. The day was sunny, with just enough fluffy white clouds to contrast the vibrant blue sky and red-orange hues of the rock formations. I was elated to have an otherwise monotonous drive interrupted by a peek at God’s marvelous majesty in His creation.

What about you? When have you been unexpectedly awed by nature? How did you react?

The detour was one hundred miles long. I could have moaned through the desert, been distracted by a book, and never noticed the beauty right outside the window. We could have pulled over (Gasp! Think of the lost time!), stopped, and let it all soak in, but we wanted to get home.

There have been countless times I wanted to pull over for a closer look, a better photo, and to capture a moment in time to enjoy for years to come; but we just kept moving. I often say out loud, “One of these days we’ll just drive up here and take a bunch of pictures with no time limits.” I hope we do. A couple of years ago I designed a big picture book of my favorite landscapes and had it bound. I used Scripture passages that accompanied the various shots. I love that book and go back to it often. The time has arrived to do another book, and this adventure on the reservation will have a place in the pages.

As I get closer to my deadline on this green earth, Lord, help me change my perspective and see detours of every kind as Divine interruptions, welcoming the unexpected gift God wants to give me in that moment. So many times I focus on arriving and on my well-laid plans. Help me, Lord, to see what has always been there, ever new to those who look through the eyes of wonder, and receive it as kisses from You, our Father in heaven.

How often can an otherwise bland, quick trip become to those who are receptive, an opportunity to step into the realm of angels.