The Right Time for the Wrong Turn

The wisdom in the detour we didn’t choose

Through my travels, I’ve met interesting people. They pour their stories into my cup. I’m no one to them…just a passerby, a momentary entity they’ll likely never see again.

Maybe that’s what gives them the freedom to confide in me. Or perhaps it’s because I ask and genuinely care.

Our stories are the bridge that connects our soul journeys. They add color to our forests. Some leaves even stay into the winter. Those stories matter because something beyond us holds onto them, for reasons we may never fully understand.

One of these stories is from Hector, a manager at a hotel we stayed at. He’s a Colombian immigrant in his mid-30s. He came to the Midwest because his wife was granted a work visa for her expertise in a highly prized and niche field. Hector’s face reminded me of Buzz Lightyear. He carried a friendly disposition and a kind of grounded confidence. He acted like he owned the place, ushering in guests and saying goodbye as if it were part of some deeper purpose.

We started chatting while I was working in the lobby, and he opened up to me. That’s the best thing about conversations with no expectation or agenda. You never know where they’ll go.

Hector shared a story from his youth. Pablo Escobar was at the height of his reign when Hector was a child. If you’re not familiar, he was the king of drug lords and the highly prized Yayo, or Colombian Whites. If any of those terms seem foreign to you, then cocaine may ring a bell. About 40% of the MLB in the mid-80s were snorting and swinging their lives away, and probably most of Wall Street too.

In any case, Hector’s mom worked at a major government building in Colombia when he was in elementary school. One morning, his dad was driving her to work. She was pregnant with Hector’s soon-to-be brother, and they were running late. The car had issues that morning, and his mom was frustrated.

Eventually, they got on the road.

About a mile from the government building, they heard an explosion.

The Government building had been bombed. Everyone inside died. Escobar had on going disagreements with the government and this was one of his many acts of retaliation.

Hector was at school. But had his dad and pregnant mother been on time, they would not be here. Hector would be without a family. That day, being late saved their lives.

Sometimes being late is the determining factor between being alive and not.

What struck me about Hector’s story wasn’t just the timing; it was the deeper idea behind it.

They were late.
They were off-schedule.
And it saved their lives.

We don’t often think of lateness or wrong turns as blessings. Most of us beat ourselves up over them. A missed meeting. A delayed decision. A detour in career, love, health, or family.

We say things like:

“I should’ve figured this out by now.”
“I’m behind.”
“This isn’t where I thought I’d be.”

But what if the delays... the “mistakes”... the wrong turns... are the reason you’re still in the game?

Sometimes being late or taking the wrong turn can surprise us. We crave consistency because it feels safe. But the truth is, those detours, those shifts in course, are often where life meets us with something we didn’t expect, and maybe really needed.

The Midwest is notorious for tornadoes. Nature decides where you shouldn’t go. Roads get blocked, and plans change. But because of those shifts, we ended up seeing things that stunned us. Quiet open fields, rolling green hills, unexpected kindness from strangers, and blue skies that cracked open, creating contrast in colors that felt like a story book.

You may think you took the wrong turn.
That your path was misguided or manipulated. That you're too late, for love, for purpose, for the quiet longing your heart still holds.

But what if you're not?

What if you're right on time?

What if the delays and detours weren’t setbacks, but sacred preparation?

What if the “wrong turn”… was never wrong at all?

What if everything that’s happening isn’t happening to you, but for you?

Kindest Regards,
Anand