There's something about driving solo through southern Idaho in the early evening with the windows down letting the wind whip my hair around singing country songs at the top of my lungs.
There's just something about that.
It makes me feel invincible and miniscule at the same time.
I do my best thinking then.
About myself, where I am and where I'm headed.
So many memories come flooding back and I'm ecstatic and distraught all at once.
Overcome with gratitude and grief, bitterness and peace all at once.
Too many things I love about that place and too many things I don't want to remember but I can't forget.
It's when my testimony grows the most and feels the strongest.
I feel closest to God driving across the state.
I guess because I've been there before, and I made it out alive.
That's where it started and that's where it ended.
It's where He and I go to reconnect and remember where we've been and where we're headed.
And I get the reminder that no matter what I'm never alone.
He just likes to renew our friendship there.
Right there in southern Idaho, highway 81.
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