May is a Memorable Month!

The month of May has always been a memorable month throughout my life. There have been some pretty great and memorable events such as graduations, concerts, recitals and a number of other things that will forever be a part of who I am. The awesome thing is that there are several events coming up for me in the next few weeks that are sure to add to the treasure trove of memories that I already have in the month of May.

But as I sit here this evening, the night before the Kentucky Derby (which is a big event around here) I can’t help but think about what happened in my family exactly 36 years ago tonight. This was the night of the annual talent program at my High School in Moline, Illinois, although I was still in Junior High at the time. My sister, who was three years ahead of me in school had tickets that she had received from a good friend of hers (who I wasn’t quite sure could be trusted) and for some reason, I was elected to go with her to the program. I could tell you that I didn’t want to go, and that I was dragged kicking and screaming, but, to be quite honest, after all these years I couldn’t tell you if I wanted to go or not. All I knew is that we were there.

Sometime in the middle of the program, there was an announcement made over the PA system for Jim and Verna Higdon to come to the ticket counter. I was immediately angry, I was just positive that there must have been some type of problem with the tickets that her friend had given her, and that we were being kicked out of the program.

However, when we arrived at the ticket counter our parents were there to pick us up, apparently my brother, who was 20 years older than me and living in Atlanta, had been on his way up to visit us on his motorcycle when it broke down on him in Louisville, KY. That’s correct, on the night before the Kentucky Derby. (I still had my doubts about the validity of our tickets)

So we all jumped into our van and began the almost 8 hour trip to Louisville to pick him up. Dad drove all night, and just as the sun was dawning on Kentucky Derby day, we arrived in Louisville to find my brother camped out behind a filling station, all ready to load up his bike in the back of the van and head for home.

That night has been a memory that has stuck with me all of these years and other than my concerns about whether or not our tickets were valid (do you get the feeling that this could still be an issue for me?) This was, for me, an excellent example of our families care and concern for each other. My parents never hesitated, they didn’t argue, they didn’t debate the various options that they had available, they simply did what they had to do to take care of one of their kids, even though my brother was a really old man of 35 at the time :) As I reflect back on that experience, I will always remember the love that my parents had for each of us and their willingness to sacrifice for us without hesitation.

This is also a reminder to me of the love that God has for each of his children. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. I am indeed blessed!