The Road Trip

Written: July 5, 2016

I have to post one more last picture before I stop talking about my weekend. This is of my traveling partner, my youngest son. When I made plans to travel so many months ago, he willingly agreed to go — no clue of what was ahead. I’ve dragged him through six states and hours of visits with some “very old people”, but he never once complained or resorted to his phone or sketching. He listened to stories of “old” MKs who traveled to Jordan with their adult children to work with Syrian refugees, and said: “We should do that, mom.” He laughed at stories told of days gone by in antics across the Middle East and North Africa, after one of which he commented: “that was worth the entire trip.” He connected with one retiree who played the saxophone for the meetings, and who now teaches music lessons, inviting her and her husband to come for a visit soon.

This young man, who was told more times than he could count “I remember you when you were just a baby” took it all in stride and told me when we got home: “I’m so glad I went Mom, add me to their Facebook group.” He’s heard stories of how Raouf and I met and “courted”, married and served overseas; he sang with me every genre of song in the car as we drove over 1200 miles. He even overcame the disappointment of only going into 1 antique store while we were on the road. (A child after his father’s own heart).

He said to me, as we talked about some of the “older” (than me) missionaries: “I’m so glad I got my picture with Mr. Norm and Mr. Wayne”. What a blessing to see my son be able to not only hear and meet but to appreciate the heritage that is Southern Baptist Missions. Oh, how our children are losing this in our churches today. Thank you, Father, for allowing us to make this road trip together. I don’t think either of us will ever be the same.

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