IHOP.


International House of Pancakes.

Being there with you, was a bit surreal. Yet, surreal is such an interesting thing for me in these days. Nothing really surprises me anymore, just rather, exists in a realm of unbelievability. This weekend gave way to more than one or one hundred of those moments.

What does one feel when walking away from someone that’s been given their death sentence numerous times? Relation. What does someone feel when walking up to the crashing waves of the bright blue Pacific? Relation. What does one feel when bustling through a world of boarding passes and rolling bags? Relation. What does one feel when stopping to say: “Please, Jesus.”? Relation.

I’m learning to learn the eyes of Jesus in the world around me. What they see, and what they look like. This weekend they were a mini cooper and talk of divorce. They were remembering to be honest, and to remain in the moment. They were biking a little farther and speaking boldly about struggle. They didn’t tell me to go forward or backward, but instead, remain. They were stories of Africa, the soft touch of cold skin from the ocean, and laughing to tears at you being you. They were reminding to always learn.

So we relate. You and me. In IHOP. In row 17. When we think about orphans. When You listen to my cries for help.

I return to the library to close it down this Sunday night. I’m delighted to be back. Wonder at the mysteries beyond me of what always happens. Wonder at the details of what is happening. There aren’t ways to say what I saw in the past few days. There aren’t ways to explain why I won’t give up these things to stave off the overwhelming homework. There aren’t words to explain how I am forever blessed at the core to know that I trust the One that relates us all.

Your eyes were jaded by the AIDS. You told me that sometimes you wished it hadn’t happened. And, yet, you cried when you thanked me for being who I am. No, no, the thanks is so far beyond us both.You know me for that reason. Because your tears thank with a love beyond you.

Marketing tests and things to read and sunsets on the ocean and bowling for hope and still forever trying to learn how to say yes and no. This, this, I am thankful for as I walk out the library doors to pass a gaze with the stars here.

I am in love. I am alive. I am redeemed.

…because love wins.

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