During the past two years, Danny and I have planned two vacations home. The first was going to be a family Christmas with everyone from far and wide headed for the home place.

I dutifully requested the days off and we pinched our pennies, but as hard as we tried, unexpected expenses (usually car-related), kept the bank account low. We knew that this was God, saying no.

We took the answer philosophically and saw at least some measure of his wisdom revealed when Denver was hit with back-to-back-to-back snowstorms, ending up with more than 2 feet on the ground, where it remained until March.

Then we thought to join Danny's mom for her 80th birthday last September. Again, I requested the time off and we waited out the summer months. The car, which by this time had earned several less than favorable nicknames, proved to be our undoing as we didn't dare take it more than 10 miles from home for fear it would never make it back. It defied diagnosis for weeks and we faced the winter with apprehension. Again, it was obvious that our plans didn't mesh with God's.

However, when the phone call came Wednesday noon that Danny's mom was in the hospital, there was no hesitation. He hung from speaking with his sister, and called me at the paper with the simple statement, "Mom is in the hospital. We're going to Denver."

We left McCook at 2:15 p.m. Danny had changed the oil a couple of weeks before and the car had passed its first highway test in late February, taking us to North Platte and back without incident.

Any doubt that may have lingered as to whether or not we should go disappeared when we entered Mom's hospital room and instead of greeting us with the expected, "Now why have you gone to all this trouble?" we were met with broad smiles and utter relief on Mom's face.

We took up residence at Littleton Adventist Hospital, leaving only in the late evening hours and returning in the early morning hours for the next several days. We got to meet and babysit Danny's great-great nephews while Danny's sister visited Mom on Thursday night and spent the day Saturday doing chores around the home place.

It was not a serious illness and soon enough the doctors were making their evaluations on how best to proceed. With only a couple of missteps along the way, Mom was transferred to a skilled nursing facility where she will receive physical therapy and time to regain her strength.

Throughout the long days and short nights, we would no sooner finish one project when the next project revealed itself. In fact, I thought we were finished for the night Saturday night when Danny announced to his sister and brother-in-law, who put us up for the duration, that he and I would be making one more trip to the hospital after he bought me a Whopper at Burger King. (It was delicious.)

Mom had been heavily sedated through the day Saturday, an unexpected side-effect of a new medication that will never be prescribed again, so we were more than pleased to see her wide-awake and smiling late that night. We enjoyed a brief hour with her before she begged off to get some "real" sleep, a request we were happy to grant. In fact, those brief moments made the trip more than worthwhile.

Unfortunately, her spurt of energy was short-lived, and Sunday morning she seemed to be exhausted once again. Obviously, it will take every ounce of her willpower, which is formidable, to do the work necessary to regain her strength and thereby her home. If anyone can do it, this woman can. She has a will stronger than that of any other person I've ever met. And given the circumstances, she'll need that strong will to become ever stronger.

The car refused to even hiccup during the many hours on the road and handled the rigors of city traffic better than its driver. There are simply too many people going hither-thither and yon as well as every which way, all at once. I didn't take the wheel once.

Just as surely as we knew when the phone call came Wednesday afternoon what we needed to do, we knew when we had done all that we could do, and without discussion, knew it was time to return to McCook.

In fact, throughout all of the 102+ hours of living outside of our considerably comfortable comfort zone, we operated with full confidence that what we were doing then was what we were supposed to be doing, whether coming, going, working or just watching Mom sleep.

What should have been our undoing -- emotionally, physically and spiritually -- was instead a moment-by-moment testimony to the sovereignty, mercy and grace of God in Christ Jesus. And it was our blessing and privilege to live it.

"My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me." John 10:27 (NIV)

Things you won't see in heaven:

Hospital beds