Memory

Occasionally in life we cross a line into something more memorable. A moment, or a day, that—for whatever reason—sticks to our minds forever. Some days come and go without much notice or specific memory. But once in a while, there’s a day that molds our outlook, adjusts our thinking, and even highlights our dreams.

This week has been one of those weeks. A marker in our personal history. We’ll forever look back and say, “Remember that week?”

December of 2015 has been unseasonably warm for northern Michigan. The few flurries that blew in melted away just as quickly. Most days lingered far above the freezing point. This rare warm window gave us the chance to bring the bus north when we should have been a thousand miles south, enjoying sun, sand, and sea.

We parked the bus with some dear friends and took full advantage of their hospitality. That decision was more than convenience—it was designed by God. He promises to direct our steps, and He hasn’t failed.

Our time with this precious couple and their children will leave indelible marks on our hearts. Together we shared the love of Jesus, scripture, hugs, and quiet strength. This week, we witnessed what the church was always meant to be. We saw the power of the Holy Spirit. We laughed. We cried. We prayed. Last night we broke bread, shared a cup, and remembered our Lord together. And today, we said our sad goodbyes.

Because of this family who opened their lives to us, our tomorrows will be a little brighter. Our life now has a bit more purpose. And our memories… well, they shine a little more brightly.

People often ask if we enjoy living in the bus. Yes—we love it. But more than the bus, what matters is this: occasionally, we get to be someplace special, with someone special, in a way that only God could have arranged. Hearts are touched. Lives are changed. And memories are made.