Several years ago, Gladys and I went on a mission trip to Colorado. We drove from Marks, Mississippi, across the continental divide, to the plains of Colorado. We have many memories of that trip. We took a lot of pictures. And you know, I am convinced, since Gladys was pregnant and since we were traveling with a van full of youth, that we visited a lot of rest areas along the way, but I don’t remember any of them. Why? Because, they were not our destination.
My friend, we must not be distracted by houses and buildings and careers, and entertainment, and forget that this place is not our home. We are just passing through.
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