My brother Paul and I flew from Texas to Omaha, Nebraska and then drove to Canton, South Dakota where we spent a couple of days with our older brother Jim, his wife Ruth and our dad.  Early Thursday morning we drove dad back to Omaha and started our four day adventure to Portland, Oregon.

My father lived the first 87 years of his life in Portland before moving to Canton two years ago to live near my brother.  The move to SD made sense especially after my mother’s death six years ago. But 87 years in one place holds a boat load of memories and a dwindling treasure chest of relationships.

It was a tough travel day.  Heavy rain on the three-hour drive to Omaha, a two-hour weather delay, late arrival into Denver, missed connection to Portland, rebooked on a different airline, five-hour delay, mechanical problems, hour and a half delay, new plane and new gate, finally in the hotel in Portland at 11:00 that night.

We visited friends in the old neighborhood, former co-workers and relatives.  We drove past the childhood school, the life-long church, parks, hiking trails and the house where he lived for over 50 years.  Every meal was filled with stories, laughter and memories of the good old days. Every drive passed shops and houses guarding the recollections of friends who had worked and lived under their roofs.

Reflecting on the trip I was reminded of the power of relationships and places.  Dad was drawn back to the people he had worked with, worshipped with and raised his children with.  He also wanted to see schools, restaurants, church, parks and hiking trails where he and my mother had spent many happy days.

Camp is more than people and places but it is not less.  The power of community and the significance of the setting are tools God uses to reshape lives for his glory and purposes.  The impact will continue for at least 89 years.