A few years ago, my family spent spring break pulling a trailer on a road trip between Mesa, Arizona, and Salt Lake City, Utah—when the kids were younger.

Oh, I could tell you volumes about the adventures (and misadventures) we had, but for now, I’ll focus on just one lesson.

We spent an entire day trying to get from Mesa to Goblin Valley, Utah—without really grasping how unrealistic that was to do in a single day. After missing our turnoff in Flagstaff (which added three hours thanks to an unscheduled stop at the meteor crater on the way to Albuquerque), our hope was to reach Goblin Valley before the RV park’s 10 pm gate closed.

On the map, there’s a nice little road from Mexican Hat straight up to Hanksville, which is just a short distance from Goblin Valley. But by the time we reached Mexican Hat, it was obvious a 10 pm arrival was impossible—we’d be lucky to get there before midnight. I prayed the gate would still be open by some miracle, so we pushed on. After all, we’d already paid for the night, and I wanted to make the most of it.

(You do all you CAN do, and trust things will work out, right?)

At the turnoff outside Mexican Hat, we came across a big, glaring sign warning RV drivers NOT to take that road: 10% grades, 5 mph switchbacks, narrow gravel road for 8 miles. Not exactly the road trip we imagined for a long, heavy trailer.

Though I was anxious to get to Hanksville, we decided it was smarter to take the longer detour—an extra 40 miles—through Bluff and Blanding instead.

By 1 am, we finally rolled into Hanksville, exhausted but relieved to be safe. That dark, lonely, nerve-wracking road had tested us.

We slept at a gas station, then headed down Highway 24 toward Goblin Valley, excited and well-rested, telling the kids we were almost there.

(To this point, the destination was still a secret.)

About 20 miles out, my son spotted something sparkling across the hills to our left. It looked like the hills were dusted with hundreds of yards of gold. I figured it was fool’s gold—probably pyrite—but still, it was breathtaking.

The glitter ended at the next hill. “Shoot,” we thought, “we should’ve stopped and taken some home!” But the road was narrow, and our trailer too long to turn around safely, so we pressed on.

Then, around the next bend, my husband saw what looked like more sparkly stuff on the right side of the road and pulled over to check it out.

But the soft shoulder, soaked from rain the day before, quickly betrayed us—we were stuck. Stuck on a remote road where travelers are few and far between.

After a while, a group of college kids came by and tried to help (much to my oldest son’s amusement, one was from his high school 550 miles away). Then a man in a truck stopped, went into town, and returned with a chain.

With everyone pushing and the man pulling, we finally got free. My husband thanked the man, who asked where we were headed. “Goblin Valley,” my husband said.

The man looked surprised. “You’re going the wrong way! You need to take 24 East, not West.”

Turns out, we were already 30 miles off course—and would’ve stayed lost for a long time if we hadn’t gotten stuck.

The college kids asked, “Why did you pull off the road?”

We laughed, “Because we saw something sparkly.”

They laughed back. Hard.

We let the kids out to climb nearby rocks while my husband drove ahead to find a place to turn around.

You know, sometimes life’s like this.

You’re moving along in the wrong direction and don’t even realize it. Then, God allows you to be enticed by a dream—a goal that grabs your attention, whether it’s financial freedom, a nicer home, or a new car. You head toward that goal, but along the way, you get stuck.

In trying to get unstuck, you reach out for help and eventually discover something that puts you back on course—closer to your true destination than you realized.

Many people chasing more money or a better life find the principles of prosperity and success laws this way—because getting stuck financially forces them to look for a way out.

The best news? Being stuck might be the best thing that can happen to you. It stops you from continuing down the wrong path and opens the door to not just get unstuck, but to get on track—sometimes from places you never expected.

I’m convinced that’s what the “glitter” of life is really for.

“Materialism”—being focused on stuff—isn’t all bad. If it gets your attention and your heart is in the right place, it can lead you to answers you didn’t even know you needed.

For more help getting unstuck, prospering your family, and turning your life around, visit ProsperTheFamily.com.

P.S. I later found out that the glittery hills were probably covered in mica or gypsum—not gold after all.