Ever since we bought our own RV lot here on Table Rock Lake a couple of years ago, our travels for the most part have been curtailed and limited to going to Texas in the winter and settling someplace there for a few months. We don’t gallivant like we used to–in the motorhome, anyway–and besides, it’s kind of hard to leave this beautiful place, what with the lake and all the activities and entertainment that define Branson. This is our seventh year of full-time RVing, and I’m finding that we’re wandering less and staying longer at places when we do. We are getting older.

Early into our stay in Rockport this past winter, I was divinely directed to go to the weekly Bible study at the park (I know, me!) partly, I guess, because I wanted to meet new people and partly because everything in this world is so upside down, I believe only God can straighten things out. I can barely believe that this is me writing these words. I’m the first to admit that something has come over me. What that something is exactly, I don’t know, but within the past three years, I have had a complete attitude shift regarding the Bible, prayer, and God.

I find this all very funny and quite interesting because I am not the Bible-study kind of person at all. I don’t even go to church. But something prompted me to participate in quite a few of those weekly sessions in Rockport, and I’ve got to admit, I rather enjoyed it. The group of more than a dozen people was welcoming, the leader was always prepared, and I learned some things.

When we arrived home in April, there weren’t that many RVs at the resort. Spring in the Ozarks can be unpredictable and snow isn’t unusual, so many owners wait until May to come back. But two acquaintances that I’d met last fall were already here, probably because snow isn’t an issue for them; one’s from Minnesota and the other from Colorado. One afternoon we got together and talked about where we’d gone and what each of us had done during the winter, and had such a good time talking and sharing and connecting and laughing that before I knew it, we were talking about resurrecting the prayer group (the one where we’d originally met) that a friend started last fall. The group met about three times before everyone left for the winter, including the one who started the group. She was a workamper who’s since moved on to another opportunity, so our group was without a ringleader.

I’m sure by now you can guess what happened. Not only has the prayer group been resurrected, but I made an account for us on Zoom so that even when we travel, we can still “meet.” Because I’m the one that signed up for the account, I am responsible for kicking off the meeting every week, no matter where I am. God’s going to make sure I’m there one way or another.

We’ve had seven such gatherings since, and each week new people come, both in-person and online. God is truly orchestrating this because I sure don’t know what I’m doing and feel completely inadequate and unworthy. But each week on Tuesdays, He makes it happen. It’s really been something to witness and behold the way everything is unfolding and evolving. To be honest, I can’t believe it.

Such is the journey I’m on today. Yes, there are actual road trips planned for the coming weeks, but it was important for me to write about now because this has been quite a trip, too. I’m finding that it’s very possible to have an adventure without ever having to leave home.