We’ve dragged ourselves out of bed early to meet together as we do each week. This time, I won’t run away. I won’t shut down. I’m not sure what happened last week.
Sometimes it feels as though no one wants to speak. I wonder whether it’s pride or shame or just awkwardness. For me, it can be a combination of all three. But this morning we are sharing slowly yet openly. Fatigue, discouragement, disappointment, suffering, intimidation, and fear reside in our words, yet we share them and they become less cavernous, less consuming.
My brother has come back from India a changed man. He is alive. This card reduced me to tears and humble gratefulness.
Chels, How much I love you is hard to describe as the significant impacts you have had on my life have not been few in number. When I was young you were kind to me and attempted to understand when no one else would...
It’s interesting that—suddenly, and triggered by a stranger saying to another stranger on the phone, “I’m really excited to see you”—my heart can be flooded with a feeling of longing for all the people I miss. The brain is _______ like that. I couldn’t find the right word for it.
Two small slaps on the door makes me smile. “Hello?!”
“Okay, you can open it, Luther!”
He strains and grunts for a few minutes unsuccessfully. Chuckling, I sneak to the door and push and he believes he’s done it himself. My two year old friend rushes in, so ecstatic. He runs around to every corner, to every little thing worth exploring and points. I put on the new Radiohead record. He stares at it, transfixed for a moment and then starts to spin and dance.
“I have been snoozing this reminder to grab my tomatoes out of the fridge for the last half hour.” My coworkers respond with genuine concern and a touch of mockery. “Oh my goodness, go! They’re crying out for you.”
I always knock twice and wait with an expectant smile to hear a muffled, “come in”.
He was absorbed, contorted over his guitar, cords snaking and coiling into various devices. I knelt in front of him and lay my head on his knees, just listening.
I so appreciated that she had asked me. And I didn’t know what my answer was. She’d been talking of her struggle with using profane language within the context of a band that had once led congregations in worship of God. A rift was growing and that fact presented to her an issue that was difficult to ignore in good conscience.
“We’re supposed to be united and this is causing division. That doesn’t seem right.”