Troy's Honda Civic took to the slushy mountain roads surprisingly well. He drove slowly yet steadily, avoiding every rock and pothole he could for Quinn's comfort. Meanwhile, I stared out the window at the morning mountain landscape and let my mind wander.

As we headed closer and closer to the wide open plains of the South Park Basin, I reflected back on the night before. Specifically, on the little phone call my aunt Jess received, presumably from my stepmom, and how everyone reacted to it. The more I pondered it in the car ride to Breckenridge, the more I started to think it was one of those "God moments". My stepmom had no business calling my family and practically demanding that I be banished. Why she did it still baffles me, as she doesn't usually do such things (unless she thinks she has something to easily gain). And, as far as I'm aware, the Nibbe's aren't exactly very fond of her. 

But, my family's ensuing reaction was what truly was the "God moment". It was like they knew my deepest, darkest fear: that I was less than family, and was more like a guest. Even though (as far as I know), I never admitted that to them. 

Regardless of if I ever told them that deep fear of mine or not, my family decided to put it immediately to rest, assuring me, over and over and over again, that I was a cherished member of the Nibbe family. That I was always and forever welcome to stay with them, both at the cabin and on the farm. I belonged to the farmland just as much as they did. I was just as close to my grandparents as they were. I was just as resourceful and redneck as they were. I shared the family's uncanny ability to "talk" to animals, as well as their artistic style, their taste in music, their taste in food and drink, and so much more.

Hell, I wasn't just welcome. I was wanted. Arguably to some, needed (as was the case for the little bull calf I rescued and nursed back to health in 2019). And, no one had the right to convince me otherwise. Not even my dad's wife. 

As Jess said, I'm a Nibbe, through and through. Albeit, a pretty short and scrawny Nibbe, especially compared to the giants that make up most of my paternal side. But, a Nibbe nonetheless. Not a damn thing could ever change that. 

Clearly, God wanted me to know that without a shadow-of-a-doubt. I don't believe in God the way a Calvinist might. But, I do believe that some things are set in our path by God intentionally, so that we may grow as people. Not just emotionally, physically, morally, etc. But, spiritually as well. Not only did my trust and love in my paternal relatives swell, but so did my trust and love in the Lord as well. 

Those "God moments", or whatever one would call those moments of fate, are rare. But, they can (and often will) change the course of one's life forever. 

When my stepmom called and asked that I be banished from the cabin, and my family instead rallied around me, I swear I saw God that night. I saw Him in everyone's eyes. I felt His embrace when aunt Jess pulled me into a hug, and again when uncle Wade did the same later on that night, and again when Troy rested his arm across my shoulders and led me through the storm-force winds and snow.

I saw His infinite love, beauty, mercy, and creativity in the arm of the Milky Way, in the Aspens and the Ponderosas, in the way the windblown snow and dust glistened like rainbow glitter in the morning sunlight, in the golden stubble grass as it bowed in the wind, in the black iridescent feathers of a magpie that landed on the porch for a brief moment to rest. I felt His infinite, overwhelming, reckless love when my family assured and showed me that I was more than just worthy of their love and protection, and when I felt my grandma Shirley walk up and stand next to me, Troy, and Wade on the porch as we stargazed. 

Because of those "God moments", my faith in God has only strengthened. My trust in Him has only solidified. Many of my greatest fears and worries have diminished almost to nothingness. 

"Pronghorn!" Troy suddenly startled me out of my daydream. 

Sure enough, a whole herd of them was trotting along the prairie grass in the basin, not far from the highway we were now on. Their white butts facing the heavy gusts of sparkly snow, and their heads low searching for brush to graze.

"You hunt those things, don't you?" Troy asked. 

"Yup!" I nodded proudly, "They're my favorite animal to hunt. Nothing's better than chasing those turbo goats across the golden plains. They're tastier than elk to me."

"Damn. I've honestly never tried pronghorn before. So I can't attest to whether or not they're tastier than elk." Troy admitted, "I must say, though. I like corn-fed whitetails over most elk I've had. I'm not a big fan of the gamey taste."

"Pronghorn are super gamey." I said, "But, I really like the gamey taste."

"I suppose you can soak the meat in orange or pineapple juice to tame the taste of game..." Troy mused. 

"Yeah, you can." I replied, "I did it with some neck meat from my 2018 doe out of curiosity. There was still a slight taste of game, but for the most part, it tasted like beef." 

"So... I reckon it wasn't your favorite then?"

"It wasn't. But, I ate that meat anyway, obviously. It was still delicious in the stew I made it in."

"Gotcha..." Troy noted, "One of these days, I'll get a pronghorn... One of these days..."

"Let me know when you get a tag." I responded, "I'll join ya!"

"Hell ya! Sounds like a plan!"

The further we descended from the South Park Basin towards Breckenridge, the warmer and calmer the weather became, and the less snow accumulated on the ground. But, at the same time, the traffic was becoming more snarled, and Troy was having to contend with the fast n' very furious Denver drivers. 

"Get off my ass..." Troy growled as an Audi SUV followed closely behind us, "I'm going five over..."

"Yup! That's Denver for ya!" I grinned, "He'll back off if you go 15 over."

"God damn..." Troy scowled, "Dude's drivin' like he's got a turtlehead pokin' out. Fuck's sake!"

"Yeah well..." I trailed off, "Get used to it. Everyone with a Colorado license plate drives like they're on the verge of shittin' themselves no matter what."

"Including you!" Quinn laughed, referencing how I peeled out of the Village Inn parking lot after I had breakfast with everyone, hours before getting in my aunt Stacy's car and riding up to the cabin. 

"What can I say? I'm from Denver, born 'n raised!" I boasted, "I'm allowed to drive like a bat outta hell. It's in my blood!"

"I mean... You do drive like your dad." Quinn smiled. 

"Yeah, she was screamin' at him to slow the fuck down a few days ago. He took us 'round in the jeep and Quinn was not all that happy." Troy laughed.

"It's true." Quinn nodded, "I can't deny it."

"Y'all are a bunch of wusses." I mocked. 

"Says the one who didn't wanna go outside earlier cuz you're afraid of the cold!" Troy rolled his eyes, laughing. 

"Touche..." I chuckled, "Tou-fuckin'-che..."