Review: "Detours" by Tony Evans

Waiting. Trials.

Endurance. Pain.

God, where?

God, when?

What do I do?

How can I wait well?

Can I speed it up if I just cooperate more? If I do this, do that, say that?

We all know Joseph’s pain. It may not be as long—sixteen years in prison. It may not have as many setbacks, slavery, slander, prison, forgotten.

But we have the same God. In Detours, Tony Evans elucidates some principles to help us navigate waiting. But most importantly, he reminds us to trust God’s providence.

Yet trust is not passive. Waiting is running, hot pursuit, a training, a burning for God. Waiting is anything but passive. It is anything but being set on the back burner. God is active, active. We are called to be active in trust, in pursuit of him. Trust is hard, it is a muscle that needs to be trained and developed. Many burning prayers from my own heart found echoes in the pages of Detours.  I pray:

Lord, all that you have, all that you plan, all that you have to bring me through, may I not shrink back, may I go through it all, so that your wonders may perform.

May I make myself available to you in whatever form and fashion you choose!

Use this as a test to reveal my heart, to take away all that is impure!

Open my eyes to see what you are doing in me and around me! Help me to trust you!

May my trials cause me to run hard after you! Protect me from bitterness, anger, self-pity. 

Lord, don’t only deliver me from my trials, but deliver me in them, deliver me from the dangers of self-pity, pride, control, fear, unbelief.

May I reach a point of total dependence on you, may I no longer rely on self but may you through this cleanse me from what is dishonorable to be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work (2 Tim. 2:21). So that you may receive all the glory, let me be so fixed on you that you receive all the praise.

May you be all to me, be MY God, BE my God, be my GOD. 

But yet, we can stall in bitterness, unforgiveness, doubt. Evans pinpoints some of these struggles.Evans leaves me with a lurking question, though. Can we speed up the process? By surrendering fully (hinted at on p. 8)? By learning God’s lesson? If I only got it through my thick skull quicker would this end? If I became a better person quicker, would I get this trial and testing over with? If I prove myself enough, would God lift this? Can I end up on plan B, get stuck in a maze of detours if I somehow don’t get the lesson right? Can I miss his potential if I don’t become the character he wants to develop in me to trust me with some great assignment? And oh! I fail so much! I am so small, finite, self-pitying, doubting, fearful, prideful!

But “I” is chief there. These questions—and I have asked them in tears, curled up on my bed, poured over them in my journal, came to peace with them and then returned to them again and again—put the focus on me. I want control. I take my eyes off of my Savior, the present Spirit, the good Father.

Another whole book could be written. But ultimately, God is the best Teacher. He is the best Father. He is the best Revealer. He knows the perfect time. He is not only sovereign over the events in my life, he is the Teacher of my heart, my Sanctifier, the one who washes me (Jn. 14:26; Jn. 17:17; 1 Jn. 2:27; 1 Thes. 5:23; Titus 3:5). He not only plans my purpose and potential, but he also knows the means. He can get me to plan A regardless, for he knows my heart and temperament. A good physician will not do surgery if something easier and less painful will succeed. A good coach will not assign pointless exercises. A good teacher knows how to convey the lesson in a way that the student understands and can achieve.

Yet he is also the God of mystery, the God who does give responsibility, who does call the first generation of Israelites who do die in the wilderness, the God who does warn about neglecting such a great salvation and urges us to lift our drooping hands and strengthen our weak knees (Heb. 2:3; 12:12). Yet, these are accompanied with great promises—you WILL inherit the land that I THE LORD ALMIGHTY GIVE YOU. He speaks in Deuteronomy of when, not if, they will receive the land. Hebrews is full of warnings but also replete with stunning statements of assurance, of Christ’s superiority and perfection, of being a sure anchor, of his perfecting us, and even for them individually “we feel sure of better things—things that belong to salvation” (Heb. 6:9).

God is great. God is great. God is good. God is good. And so we trust. We pick up our eyes from our tear-ridden journal page and lift our eyes to Jesus. Jesus the one who knows what it means to be finite human with doubts and temptations and weariness.  Jesus the one who waited on his Father for food in the desert despite Satan holding out the temptation to eat then. Jesus the one who hung on the cross so that we would know the tender care of an Almighty Father. Jesus who sits on the ascended throne and sits us with him. Jesus who knew what looked like--from human eyes--detours. God is great. God is good.

We trust the God who orchestrates the timing, the means, the heart change, the purpose, the end, the best, even in the pain.

God moves in a mysterious way

….Judge not the Lord by feeble sense.

But trust Him for His grace;

Behind a frowning providence

He hides a smiling face.

…His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding every hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flower.

William Cowper, “God Moves in Mysterious Ways”