[written earlier in the month and neglected to post.]
I am a strong believer in many things:
If there is an open space of grass, twirling is necessary. Shoes, not so much. I believe in slow Saturdays and steeping cups of Chai, and that books with beautiful covers and severed pages really are better. Simplicity always trumps extravagancy. Lightning bugs really do have a smell. And there are beautiful, tremendous people to meet on every street corner. [This is why I hang out at coffee shops, and coincidently how I developed a severe, rather debilitating addiction to a good, strong cup of coffee.] Oh, and I really believe in doing things I love—like rollerblading and sending old fashioned birthday cards and writing poetry on coffee sleeves, leaving them for the next customer to find.
And more than any of these other things, I believe with all of my heart, in saying “Thank you.”
As a high school student, I made the observation that I really enjoyed going to homes cluttered with photographs. There was something enriching about walking down hallways of memories, smiles, and happy moments. It was as if the owners of those special moments were acknowledging that those moments mattered—that those individuals with the goofy expressions or cheesy grins were significant to the molding and shaping of the life created by the people in the home. To me, it was as if they were saying, “Thank you.” “Thank you for being a part of our journey”
I believe that we should always thank those that influence us. Who love us. Who push us to be better people.
Thunder rumbles my bed frame, and the lights flicker a bit. My already dimly lit room grows just a little darker and the sound of the heavy rain is the perfect musical backdrop for my night of writing. The Chai candle flickers on my nightstand and I sit here, sprawled out and eating a delicious piece of Belgian chocolate. Belgian chocolate carried over in a backpack and given to me a few short weeks ago from a friend on a journey.
And though I say it simply–I say it sincerely. Thank you for that chocolate. Thank you to the strong, brave, beautifully deep and wise woman who entered my day to day life a short year ago. Thank you for reminding me that a cup of hot tea and a couch conversation can be the most joyful and genuine of communions. Thank you for reminding me to dream. To reach. To challenge myself and others. Thank you for sharing C.S. Lewis and Oswald Chambers and for your ear and your serving hands and your heart.
Thank you for your mismatched outfits and forgetful disposition and mostly, for being a listener.
I believe that God places people in our lives at very specific times for very specific reasons. And in you, friend, God gave me a breath of air. A boost of encouragement. Much needed laughter.
And mostly, I want to thank you for moving away. For chasing after your God-given gift and dream and talent. For being brave. Because in doing so, you remind the rest of us that we too have castles in the sky to chase. Beanstalks to climb. Truths to share. And every time I take a bite of your sweet Belgian Chocolate gift, I’ll think of the giver in you.
“What draws people to be friends is that they see the same truth. They share it.” ― C.S. Lewis