A Little Bit of Rust Goes a Long Way

"A little to the right. Now a little to the left. Don't let go. Hold tight. Watch out for that rock. Do you see what's ahead of you?"

"Yes, daddy. I'm trying."

"Okay, keep going. Just a bit further."

"We're sliding daddy."

"That's okay. Just work with it. You're doing good. Don't stop now."

"We made it!"

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"It's all you today. Here you go."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yep, you're ready. Let's go!"

"Okay."

"You can go a little faster. It won't bite. We're safe."

"Yes, sir."

"You've got this. You're doing great. You know the way and that's all that matters."

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"It looks like you are going to be sick."

"It's too bouncy."

"You're going to be fine. Just focus on ahead of you."

"Are we almost there?"

"Not quite. Breathe. Hang on. You can do this."

"If you say so."

"Just a little further and we'll be there. No problem."

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There are stories inside us that we can only find when we think of the object in which they were created. There are conversations shared that will only be remembered when we catch a glimpse of rusted out silver-blue steel. There are times we loved well while sitting on a dirty bench freezing our backsides off.

So many memories wrapped into a hunk of metal rusting away before our eyes. Matt bought his little Toyota pick up when we were dating. He owned it fifteen years. It had become a part of his physical identity. Everyone knew which one was Matt's truck. The rusty bucket, as some might call it.

That truck saw many adventures. It sat at different job sites, transported house project materials, took kids to spend one on one time, and visited countless dirt roads. Early on it saw a young couple trying to make their way in this world. It helped move them to a new home four different times.

While it could never carry the whole family, the rusty bucket got to experience some of the most unique conversations two people could have. Squeeze in a third person and you were sure to have a memorable experience. Especially when they figured out the passenger door couldn't be opened from the inside.

This special truck carried a small boat to our small town lake regularly. It gave us the opportunity to enjoy the water easily. Kids squealed in delight as they caught fish and then sulked in disappointment as they lost them off their hooks. The rusty bucket sat along shore, patiently waiting for our family fun to come to an end that day.

How do you say goodbye to something that holds the key to some of your most precious moments in life?

Perhaps you aren't one of those sentimental types.

We are. We enjoy memorials. We love recognizing how God has worked in our lives over here, and over there, and how He got us through those tough moments in life when we thought we might not make it one step further.

We understand we can't take our things with us. However, there is some reverence in letting go items that have become part of the sacred building of relationships. We stand in awe that God would let us be a part of such great work.

It is just a rusty bucket. Eventually it will meet the crusher.

As for us, we think a little bit of rust has gone a long way. It won't be forgotten.