Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Love, I'm back at it again

A two year hiatus has left me feeling pretty creatively dry. I haven't blogged, but I did fall in love and am now on the other side of it enduring a broken heart as God heals it. Its not that I didn't have anything to write during that time. Rather, I had literary laryngitis I suppose. Or possibly, I lost my voice because I lost myself for a while. Have no fear. As I find myself again and rediscover my God, so many things are happening. And without me, for the past two years at least, you might be eager for an update or ready to laugh and cry with me.

I hope you missed me, because now, I'm back.

What speech can usher in my grand reemergence? Two words. Love exists. On the day after St. Valentine's, I'm reminded that my life is full of love. Let me show you where from three examples from Love day.

I spent the morning with a new acquaintance at the rock climbing gym, Katie. Her 5.10s were so glorious to my beginner 5.8s (which in regular terms means shes advanced and I'm a newb). However, as I wrestled with this wall, I heard the heights calling to me, asking me to reach them. And from below, this new friend encouraged. A stranger, 60 feet below me, urged me onward toward my dreams. Our climbs were mixed with chatter about love and hopes, dreams and desires. We find solidarity in brokenness, but realize there is hope to apprehend.

Love was: having someone realize my dreams and encourage me onward.

Rushing off to my next appointment, I let my hair down and fixed my makeup. This was a date I had been looking forward to all weekend. I met him at his home, where the staff had prepared a wonderful steak and potato meal. You'd think I was dating a lawyer. But, you see, my 89-year-old grandfather expected me to be on time, and I was inevitably running late. The workers at his assisted living facility all wore red and pink and smiled at me, my grandfather's "sweetheart" for the day, as they rushed around serving the residents their special meals. My grandfather is a quiet man, except when he needs coffee. His memory is grand. And I have learned in the past two months how much I love him and look forward to the slow walks down his hallway as he pushes a walker with little effort. I especially appreciate the stories he tells about life. It's like I'm friends with him instead of a kid who doesn't really know him. He reminds me that there's someone out there for me, and that I have a great heart.

Love was: taking slow, gentle time to give my love and in return receive it.

My finale of love for the evening was an exceptional meal with some of my best girls. Upon realizing how difficult the day would be for me without class (which is normally scheduled on Tuesday nights), they made it a night to remember. We had a splendid meal, made by Georgia, a gorgeous spread of desserts, chocolate dipped strawberries by Megan and better than ... cake, again Georgia, and sweet beverages, via Laura. And we ate steaks and a potato medley that were to die for. I didn't bring anything, except a camera and witty comments to share during "Sweet Home Alabama." But it didn't matter.

Love was: being served when I was feeling down and didn't have anything to offer. Having friends to care when a heart is troubled and life is confusing.

All in all I'm realizing the truth of it all. "Every good and perfect gift is from above." And the love that I gave and received, was from above yesterday. That's the love I'm looking for. And when I find it in its fullest, I'll share it.