Color

Last week, Jer and I and the kids headed up to Jackson to stay with Jer's sister Lizzie and her family. Driving thru the snake river canyon in the dark, we nearly hit a man on a bike wearing all black. As we continued to drive, I remarked that "that guy will probably be hit tonight by someone". Jer commented on his wish that we could give him a ride. We had one more seatbelt in the car so we decided to turn around and offer him a ride. He accepted. It took about 30 minutes for he and Jeremy to unload all of his earthly belongings onto our laps and tie his bike to the roof of the car. His name was Gary Isaacson. He was in his late 40s I would guess. Long beard, old clothes, nice face. He was from missouri. He'd been riding his bike for 8 years. God provided him with his provisions. He wanted to make snowshoes and hike in the mountains outside of Jackson. We dropped him off at a gas station in town and wished him luck. We watched as he strapped his tent, sleeping bag, cooking supplies and clothes to his bike. We wished him luck and drove away.


I share this story because he added a colorful strand to the weaving of our Rigby life. He had so little. He seemed happy. He was surviving in the cold. It made us all grateful for our home, warmth and each other. It also helped us realize how ridiculous it is that we accumulate so much unnecessary "stuff". Our family got more for one Christmas than he owned. How necessary was the argyle sweater, the movies, the candy and lip gloss? It was so refreshing to have him ride in our car and give us a small glimpse into his life.