The Long Way is Still the Way

Photography & Faith

Last year, Gage and I took the long way up a trail we’d hiked before. Not intentionally — just the kind of decision that happens when you assume you know where you’re going.

I’d heard the stories about the waterfall at the top. That it wasn’t very impressive. That most days it was barely there at all. The kind of place people mention in passing, not something you build a whole hike around.

The trail stretched longer than I expected. It looped and wandered, offering more questions than answers. There were moments I wondered if we’d taken a wrong turn, if we were wasting time, if the destination would be worth the effort at all.

But when we reached the top, the waterfall was there — not dramatic or roaring, but present. Running. Alive. It wasn’t the version I’d been warned about. It was better.

As I’ve been thinking about that hike again, I keep coming back to a verse that’s been sitting with me this month:

“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” — Proverbs 16:9

I don’t think the long way was a mistake. I think it was a reminder. That not every detour is a delay, and not every winding path means we’re lost. Sometimes the route that feels inefficient is the one doing the deeper work.

Looking back, that year felt much the same. Plans shifted. Timelines stretched. Expectations softened. And yet, something steady was being formed underneath it all. The destination mattered — but so did the walking.

This season has been teaching me to trust that the steps are being established even when the map feels unclear. Especially then.

Lately, I’ve been noticing the spaces between destinations — the pauses, the in‑between moments, the places I would’ve hurried past before. That’s where my attention is settling next.

Sometimes the long way is still the way.