One last story from Rich Dixon about the ride where we first met.

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Last time, a “random” encounter – Jesus wasn’t finished using our ride.

The brawny man and his two sisters saw our trailer. While I used the hospital restroom, they asked Becky to tell them about “Hope on Wheels.”

I joined them and we chatted until Becky’s phone summoned her to finalize a weekend speaking event.

This trio looked exhausted. I asked what was happening.

They arrived eighteen days earlier when “Momma” suffered a stroke. After eighty-five strong, healthy years, Momma, the family matriarch, lay incapacitated and weak. Her children wept as they verbalized their emerging realization – Momma might not recover.

“Tell us about hope.”

You don’t quote platitudes in that situation. We talked about love and faith amid pain. The big guy whispered, “What can we believe when docs say Momma probably won’t get better? Where can we find hope in that?”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, but we know this – God’s taking care of her, right?”

He smiled. “You’re right, and she knows that. She knows Jesus is with her.”

Now they laughed through tears. “Remember her singing about the ‘glory of heaven’ while she washed dishes?”

Things suddenly got quiet again. They remembered where they were.

The man said, “So that’s hope?”

“Maybe that’s part of it, knowing God keeps His promises, knowing He’ll care for her no matter what. And knowing He’ll care for you folks as well.”

I showed them the back of my bike jersey. They read it quietly: HOPE changes what’s possible.

The sisters shook my hand and walked outside. The big guy hugged me. As he leaned close, I whispered, “Momma’s gonna be okay.”

“I know.”

That’s hope.

I don’t know how to measure that moment. I can’t chart it or calculate its value. But such interactions do reflect the central purpose of Rich’s Ride.

These grieving folks were some of the unnamed people for whom we prayed before the ride began. We asked God to guide us to those who needed a message of hope and encouragement. We asked for the right words, for the presence of His Spirit when words weren’t sufficient.

We prayed our request nine weeks earlier. On this final day of the ride, we experienced God’s faithful answer yet again. We thought the day was all about celebrating our big accomplishment. It wasn’t.

It was about Momma, her three kids, and hope.