Any time I am ever asked to write about an important event in my life, I always find myself returning to my move to Loja, Ecuador, South America. Granted, it was an incredibly life-changing event for me, but nonetheless I always try to come up with a new, more original topic than this now overly used subject. But after thinking for quite a while and having no success, I instead began to wonder what made this experience so meaningful. To be honest, I don’t even really remember the plane ride- that one, symbolic, most pivotal moment of my entire life. I remember wanting to walk around instead of sitting strapped to my seat; I remember wondering ‘how much longer until we get there’- over and over and over again.
No, it’s not the plane ride that is so important. It’s the memories of the struggle leading up to it, and the triumph that followed. It’s kind of silly, really. I mean, my memory is so important because of the memories leading up to it? But yes, just like in a good book, the climax and triumph of the main character is only complete and satisfying because of the knowledge of what has gone on in the past, and the hope for what will happen in the future.
The importance of that move comes from the memory of the seven moves in two months; it’s the goodbyes and the tears; it’s the nervousness and genuine fright of the unknown. And yet, it’s most memorable because, even during that uncertain time, the sense of God’s overwhelming love, care and guidance for my family stands out above it all. God, really experiencing His love for me, is what made this memory what it is. Now, throughout my entire life, no matter where I am in life, whom I’m with, or what language is being spoken, I know full well that following God’s plan for my life is what makes any experience memorable.
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