There are moments you can plan for on a trip, but the memories you take away with you sometimes come when least expected.

The stars lit our way back home as we drove into the night. The sky was dark but not dim; in the distance tall silhouettes of trees swept by like blurred shadows. The only sound was the rolling air as we cut through the wind. Stars, trees, sky, air.

The surroundings were simple, almost cliche, but in this moment I was lost. Not forgotten, but absorbed. Into something greater and more sublime that for minutes I had ceased from the world's troubles and my own.

Life paused.

As I stared at the bright stars I felt a sense of God's pleasure. It was a peace that punctured my quiet discontent, a comfort that silenced my fears. Against the madness he somehow whispered, and I knew in my heart everything would be alright. God made sense again, I felt a mutual understanding—it's going to be alright.

That night I had thought myself a stranger passing through a lonely Oregon road. Now I know I am never alone on my journey. No matter where the path leads me.

Strange, I know. I don't get it either. The same event can affect people in many different ways. Life is beautifully mysterious that way. I'll stop trying to explain it.

Let me just say—

I dared to gaze upon the stars and sky, but truly, it was I who was seen.

Thanks for the memories, Oregon.