A Million Miles in a Thousand Days

A couple weeks ago, a friend gave me a copy of Donald Miller’s book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. I started reading last week, and packed it to take with me to Texas. To say that I loved the book is an understatement. The author recants an experience of turning his memoir into a movie. Into a series of stories. And contemplates how to write a good story…with your life. Beautiful. Because that is what we are doing.

I appreciate out of the ordinary experiences. The memories that paint a picture that is interesting to look at. And I am grateful to writing for that. That picture to read and reread. To reflect on and redirect my focus. We are writing our own stories. For ourselves. For our kids. I want to write a story of adventure. Of humble service. Of love. And there are pieces to that. Pieces that tie words together, make sentences of the days and chapters of the years.

Last week we traveled across three states but it felt like a million miles. We were gone for one week. But it felt like a thousand days. We were traveling to meet our niece. And missed her sweet little life by but handfuls of hours. And the story from that weekend was one of great loss. Expectant hope. Tender joy. Beauty. And grace. These experiences shape us. The pictures move us. An empty swing. A table overflowing with provisions. A blooming bouquet. Combed hair. Ironed pants. A grin. And a tear. Standing in worship. Walking in obedience. Carrying the weight. Of a little life. Balloons held. And let go. Into a blue sky receiving. Food and fellowship. Dust and laughter. They tell the story of a little girl with a big name and an unimaginable impact on so many lives.

Friends, please continue to pray for the Davis family as they walk the journey the Lord has put before them.

88 balloons…for 88 days.


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