2026 Youth Trip to Colorado – Day 6
August 6 – Day 6
By: Molly McCue
You may think after spending a couple of days journeying in the mountains, there isn’t much to be said about a 7 hour bus ride back through the plains of Nebraska and Iowa: back home.
But this is my fourth and final trip with Good Shepherd Youth and boy do I know better. This last day is a balancing act. One between beholding experiences newly made and coming to understanding that it will be over soon. Lucky for us, the plains are the perfect spot to let your mind wander—to let it remember.
Here’s the thing. Any of us could go back to hike, worship, and stargaze in the Rockies, but never again will we be with the same people there. Never again will we feel the same stirring the second time around or even be the same person after arriving from the first one. Never again will we get to hold each other and sing Riptide as Lane and Adam play guitar or stay up late in cabins with strangers who now feel like family. This realization? It is a beautifully terrible thing to live with.
As a graduate who is leaving her 3 younger brothers, mom, and dad in exactly 12 days, I’ve tossed and turned with this balancing act for the past year. But what has kept me pushing forward is simply gratitude and hope. But maybe they are a lot less simple than we have known them to be.
Let me explain.
When all you can do is remember what you can never go back to, feel the painful longing. Sit with it. Because those memories happened. You get to remember them. Because I would rather miss a memory than never have had it at all.
Having been on a few before, I can correctly state that each of these trips is different. Our anchors leave and don’t come back… but new people join. The dynamic shifts to create a whole new experience, and new memories. Suddenly you find yourself letting go of what you never want to forget so you can make room for the new lessons, new conversations, and new stories. But the memories cannot be replaced. They will surely never be erased. They stay even as the new ones form. It is simply that your capacity to love, your capacity to grow, and your capacity to hope expands with each experience we hold. Whether that experience is good or bad.
Here’s a simile to help visualize. We are like patchwork blankets. The patchwork blankets that will always have room to add another square. So, as I look into the future where nothing is certain, I know each new person I have talked to during my time spent at Good Shepherd, some who I’ve grown to love and had to say goodbye to, has shaped me into this blanket with story and character that I get to share with others. And as we return home today, there is immense sorrow to leave those I love. To leave this youth group, and to leave Sarah. Yet, I am so deeply grateful to be a part of this story. To say that I found faith in South Dakota 2023, resilience in New Orleans 2024, a different kind of family in North Carolina 2025, and a deep gratitude and hope in Colorado 2026.
While all of us won’t be returning next year, most of you will be.
So,
Rising Sophomores keep showing up again, and again, and again.
Juniors, lean into who you are for you are already enough.
Seniors, say yes to each new opportunity no matter how scary, because anything you truly care about you will fear for (at least a little).
Fellow graduates, you got this, you are not alone, have hope. For we have added a new patch to our blankets- to our stories. Look back at it and remember. Remember all the late-night laughs, the powerful stillness of the Mountains, and the stolen moments under the stars. Remember that the future is something to hope for, and the past is something to hold deep gratitude to.
Colorado Youth Trip 2026, this is goodbye
But as for the memories being stored for a day when I need them to smile,
this is see you later.
With deep love,
Molly McCue
