I stared blankly and looked behind her left shoulder to see a group of medics transporting his body to the back of an ambulance. I looked to my right and saw the grieving woman sob on the pavement.

Why are we here? I wondered.

Because we decided at the last minute to use our own car instead of drive with friends. Because, even though Siri said we could have saved 4 minutes, we took the long way. Because we stopped at this Amish restaurant and after standing in line for 10 minutes, we left. Because Words With Friends was glitching so I happened to be looking out the passenger window at the perfect time to catch a glimpse of her as she jumped out of the car with blood on her hands and terror in her eyes. Because of providence, even though I can’t explain how providence works.

Because she needed to be witnessed in her grief.
Because he didn’t need to die alone.

Not at all.

After giving our statements, we started the three-hour drive home. I kept repeating the word “witness” over and over in my head. “You will be my witnesses,” Jesus said, “in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8) I wondered if this is what Jesus meant by witnessing?

Is being a witness opening your life to be disrupted by the grief, pain, and needs of another?

I wondered what would have happened if we were in a rush or if I was on Instagram or if we took the fast way there because who doesn’t want to save 4 minutes? I wondered if we would have missed an opportunity to bear witness to the grief of two strangers and help carry the burden of an impossibly horrifying moment.

The thought crossed my mind when I saw her jump out of the car, you know— “Savannah, she’s probably fine. You don’t want to be late. Someone else will help.”

But the Spirit’s prompting was undeniable:

Turn around. Be disrupted. Be a witness. Be with-ness.

Yes. To be Christ’s witness is to be present to the Spirit’s activity in the world, and the Spirit is always moving toward the brokenhearted. (Psalm 34:18) It means embracing disruption because no destination outweighs the value of the journey. It means, as the song goes, “The detour is the road.” The detour is the point. It is in every turnaround moment we’re invited to align our hearts with the Kingdom and give witness statements to the movement of God. Detours interrupt the flow of our lives and give us new opportunities to profess  that God is good to us. That we can hope. That we can dare to believe in God’s faithfulness when suffering feels unbearable. That delays are Divine invitations to dig deep into the love of God and release our thirst for control.

That, when we are the ones on the side of the road in desperate need of help…Jesus is our faithful witness. (Revelation 1:5) And no matter what we face or where we go, we will never experience a moment alone.