Let’s talk about Divine Detours, the kind that don’t announce themselves, the kind that make you sigh, shake your head, and say, “God, what is this now?” Only to later realize, it was never a setback. It was a setup.
It started with rain. Not the soft, cozy kind, but a full-on Lagos downpour. We were wrapping up our quarterly industry meeting in V.I. As usual, I was the only woman in the room. By now, I’ve made peace with being the only woman in many rooms, but this night, I was just hoping to get home in peace.
But Lagos had other plans. Lekki infact was after my life and property. Lol
One guy called to say the water nearly swallowed his saloon car. People with jeeps were bragging, “We’re good.” The rest of us, saloon car gang, knew better. We waited. And waited. 8:30 turned to 9:30. Then 10. Then 11. Phones were ringing: “Are you okay? Where are you?” I kept replying, “I’m on my way,” knowing full well I wasn’t.
Finally, I decided: “Bad as e bad, I go enter this water.”
“Sometimes, the only way forward is through.”
I drive a hybrid car. In the middle of Ozumba Mbadiwe, I saw jeeps struggling. If jeeps dey suffer, Omo! e don be for me be that o? I rerouted through Bourdillon, praying under my breath, heart racing like a drumline. Cars were stalling. Water everywhere. Friends were calling: “Babe, just sleep in a hotel.”
But something in me said, Keep going.
Finally, I made it home at 12:30 a.m. Drenched in water, shaking in gratitude. I locked the door. Slept like a child. The next morning, I prayed… then tried to start the car. Nothing.
Mechanic came. Car was gone. So I ordered an Uber.
And that’s when the story shifted.
A calm, soft-spoken man in a Mercedes SUV pulled up, yes, SUV! I had booked a regular ride, but God had other ideas. As I settled in, the Holy Spirit nudged: “Pray for him.” and listen, we must be discerning enough to know that “Interruptions are often invitations. Pay attention to the whisper.”
I was tired. Still reeling from the car drama. Not in the mood to be spiritual. But the nudge wouldn’t go. So I started gently: “How’s your family? Work? Are you a graduate?” The moment I asked about school, something clicked. Like I’d hit heaven’s target.
We parked and sat talking. For 20 minutes, we peeled back layers. He showed me his admission letter. And then I heard it, clearly: “You’re going to sponsor this man through school.”
I blinked. “Holy Spirit, calm down. I just lost a car.”
But I knew that voice.
We prayed. He cried. Real, gut-deep kind of tears. And he said, “I was working today because my pregnant wife needed help. I was tired. I asked God for a sign. I needed to know he still sees me.”
And then I showed up. Not because I planned to. Not because I had margin. But because my car broke down.
Ah! Sometimes your breakdown is someone else’s breakthrough o.”
I got down, heart full. Later that day, my mentor called. I explained the car issue. He said, “Send me the bill.” I did. He paid.
Then someone else, my person also called, asked the same, and sent the same amount. The repair money came back to me, twice.
Listen, when you give from obedience, God returns it with interest. Not because you demanded it, but because He delights in your surrender.
The Holy Spirit whispered: “That car money was preserved for school fees. The fees will come semester by semester, so it won’t be a burden. You obeyed. Well done.”
That “well done” felt like oil over my soul. Gentle. Weighty. Sacred.
I wanted to argue, “God, you could’ve just told me to give.”
But He said: “If I told you plainly, you would have reasoned it away. You had to live the lesson.”
If there’s anything I have learnt and still learning about God is, God doesn’t waste detours. He turns them into divine appointments.
So now I pray differently. I used to say, “Lord, send me a helper.” Now I pray, “Lord, make me one.” Let someone’s testimony include me. Let my obedience echo in someone else’s answered prayer.
Because here’s what I know now:
A pipe that carries water never stays dry. If abundance flows through you, it will never bypass you.
So if you’re ever stuck in a flood, delayed on a path, inconvenienced without warning, pause. Ask yourself: Is this a disruption or a divine detour?
And when the opportunity to give comes, don’t overthink it. Don’t make it about worthiness or timing or budget. If love or the Spirit leads, give. That’s the seed.
Let me leave you with this prayer:
“Lord, make me a channel of your abundance. Let resources flow through me like rivers, not reservoirs. Remind me that you are my Source, my true and only Source. Help me give without hoarding, help without hesitation, and love without limits. Make generosity my nature, not my exception. Amen.”
I’m sure if you’ve read up until this part, you must have paused to take stock of a time or many times God wrote a divine detour into a chapter or page of your life, a time where God interrupted your plans to answer someone else’s prayer?
I’d love to hear your story. Hit the comments. We’re all just walking each other home.
With love and unexpected rain,
Your Sister in the Journey
Nkiruka