"The Old Pick-Up Story — Memories in the Rearview"

"The Old Pick-Up Story — Memories in the Rearview"

Years ago, I knew an old man down in the bottoms who drove an old pickup truck that had survived a couple of decades of farm seasons that included; more than a couple of droughts, floods, hail storms, tornados, and a house full of country farm boys who “borrowed it sometimes without permission” and for Friday night football games and postgame gatherings down by the Big Muddy River.

The paint was faded, the tailgate didn’t match, and the radio only worked if you smacked the dashboard just right — around here, we just call that country Bluetooth.

But here’s the thing, that old man man loved that truck.

Not because it sparkled.

Not because it turned heads.

But because it carried memories — dust on the floorboards, dents with stories behind them, and miles that smelled like sweat, hay, and a good day’s work.

He never fussed about what it wasn’t — he was grateful for what it was: paid for, faithful, and always ready to fire up, even on cold mornings when smarter men stayed inside.

One day someone asked, “Why don’t you trade it in for a newer one?”

He grinned and said, “Son, this truck has hauled my firewood, got me to work, carried home groceries, Bibles, and grandkids. It’s helped me through storms and took me to church more times than I can count. A new truck might be prettier… but it wouldn’t come with these memories.”

And that stuck with me.

Some folks chase shiny things, while others thank God for the old blessings sitting right there in the driveway.

Because sometimes contentment isn’t in getting something newer,
it’s in remembering what’s already carried you through the miles, the messes, and the mercy of God.

“But godliness with contentment is great gain.” — 1 Timothy 6:6 (ESV)
“…I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content…” — Philippians 4:11 (ESV)

Before you ask God for what’s next, take a moment to thank Him for what — and who — has already ridden shotgun through your story.