Decisions, Decisions

It has been a topsy-turvy several days. Since my father passed away last Saturday, the big question has been: how do I/we get to his memorial service next Saturday? Do we do an about face, and return home, or do we press on to Yellowstone, and I fly home for the service?

We have just spent three days in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Rest and relaxation at the Rafter J ranch, rather more upscale than we usually go to, but good for stepping back and weighing options. Emotionally, I am very drawn toward just heading east. On the other hand, we are so close to Yellowstone, and may not have a chance to see it again. Processing this, no matter what we chose, Christ is our Lord and our righteousness, heaven our home--those rock-solid truths undergird us.

In the end, this morning I found the courage to press on to Yellowstone. I say "I" because Priscilla all along had more fortitude than I did. So I will fly back on June 24 from Jackson, WY, stay with family for the weekend, then fly back Monday morning. When I return to WY, we will stay one more day, then begin the 6-day-long trip home. All, of course, Lord-willing, and entrusting ourselves to his care.

Meanwhile, the Black Hills are marvelous. This morning we biked a few miles on the Mickelson Trail, a 109-mile trail through the Black Hills that passes right by the entrance to the Rafter J ranch. Lovely ride, warm sunshine all the way, cool, brisk mountain air. Then spent the afternoon at the pool. I read mostly, appreciating Eugene Peterson's memoirs titled The Pastor. If it weren't for Yellowstone's beckoning, I for one could spend a week in the Black Hills, and call it an excellent trip.

If you are reading this, please do keep us in prayer--not only for safety and for Bertha to hold up, but also for family building, sabbatical rest, growth in grace, and faith-building.