On Sunday during the death march song, Ring out Wild Bells (the year is dying, let it die) Max slid his hymn book over to me and wanted me to look at it. It was open to, “I’ll Go Where you want me to go.” I read through it and it reminded me of how I felt years ago, wondering if we needed a change.

As the week played out, we were at my sisters home enjoying last moments in Utah and pinning down our route and must-sees for the West Coast.

Concerns for some of our extended family members were on our minds. We knew they were suffering and we felt helpless. Continuing to look forward to California, Canada and Alaska felt hollow. What if…?

We reviewed the baptismal covenant to “mourn with those that mourn and comfort those who stand in need of comfort.” What if…?

We know someone is suffering, what are we doing about it?  If Jesus asked us “what did you do?” How would we answer? How could we not try and do something?

Thoughts of heading North, not South took the lead. It’s cold there, and our trailer?  No heated pipes.

I’ll go where you want me to go- we will figure out how.

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