Every journey has its moments; you trip, flat back tire, run out of gas, the list could go on and on and on. A friend once shared with me this story told by Jeffrey R. Holland, an apostle*. Although just a story from his life, I felt like I could relate. I wanted to share that with you.....story time.......
"Thirty years ago last month, a little family set out to cross the United States to attend graduate school--no money, an old car, every earthly possession they owned packed into less than half the space of the smallest U-Haul trailer available. Bidding their apprehensive parents farewell, they drove exactly 34 miles up the highway, at which point their beleaguered car erupted.
Pulling off the freeway onto a frontage road, the young father surveyed the steam, matched it with his own, then left his trusting wife and two innocent children--the youngest just three months old--to wait in the car while he walked the three miles or so to the southern Utah metropolis of Kanarraville, population then, I suppose, 65. Some water was secured at the edge of town, and a very kind citizen offered a drive back to the stranded family. The car was attended to and slowly--
very slowly--driven back to St. George for inspection.
After more than two hours of checking and rechecking, no immediate problem could be detected, so once again the journey was begun. In exactly the same amount of elapsed time at exactly the same location on that highway with exactly the same pyrotechnics from under the hood, the car exploded again. It could not have been 15 feet from the earlier collapse, probably not 5 feet from it! Obviously the most precise laws of automotive physics were at work.
Now feeling more foolish than angry, the chagrined young father once more left his trusting loved ones and started the long walk for help once again. This time the man providing the water said, "Either you or that fellow who looks just like you ought to get a new radiator for that car." For the second time a kind neighbor offered a lift back to the same automobile and its anxious little occupants. He didn't know whether to laugh or to cry at the plight of this young family.
"How far have you come?" he said. "Thirty-four miles," I answered. "How much farther do you have to go?" "Twenty-six hundred miles," I said. "Well,
you might make that trip, and
your wife and those two little kiddies might make that trip, but
none of you are going to make it in
that car." He proved to be prophetic on all counts.
Just two weeks ago this weekend, I drove by that exact spot where the freeway turnoff leads to a frontage road, just three miles or so west of Kanarraville, Utah. That same beautiful and loyal wife, my dearest friend and greatest supporter for all these years, was curled up asleep in the seat beside me. The two children in the story, and the little brother who later joined them, have long since grown up and served missions, married perfectly, and are now raising children of their own. The automobile we were driving this time was modest but very pleasant and very safe. In fact, except for me and my lovely Pat situated so peacefully at my side, nothing of that moment two weeks ago was even remotely like the distressing circumstances of three decades earlier.
Yet in my mind's eye, for just an instant, I thought perhaps I saw on that side road an old car with a devoted young wife and two little children
making the best of a bad situation there. Just ahead of them I imagined that I saw a young fellow walking toward Kanarraville, with plenty of distance still ahead of him. His shoulders seemed to be slumping a little, the weight of a young father's fear evident in his pace. In the scriptural phrase his hands did seem to "hang down." In that imaginary instant, I couldn't help calling out to him:
"
Don't give up, boy.
Don't you quit.
You keep walking.
You keep trying.
Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don't come until heaven; but for those who embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ,
they come. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in
good things to come."
my life is full of reasons to give thanks--grateful is an understatement. --thinking about all the good things in my life--a strong crazy happy family, friends, a good ice cream cone, a relationship with Heavenly Father, laughter of kids, i love owls, a big fat nap, turkeys (poor guys), warm coat in this freezing michigan air, ability to see-to touch-to smell-to feel-, elder sweatfields jokes, inspiring books, i love my mom, talented muscians for me to listen to--can't forget coldplay, running all bundled up in the blizzarding snow, a place to come home to each night, people i meet, being able to learn everyday, sports (even when byu loses), strawberries, getting mail, seeing people change, erasers on pencils, i could sit here all day and never be done, but most importantly i am grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ-- He has given me the chance to live life, and enjoy the journey.
