It’s interesting how such a small space can scream and whisper of so much blessing.

Tonight, I think about your nights sleeping right over there by the TV.
I think about the night you hopped in the car and came with me, when he was being born.
I think about packing and unpacking and sitting here, and falling asleep talking to you over and over and over again.
I think about how it’s protected. Silent, if I’d like it to be, except the familiar passing train.
I think about how I sit and think about those people. You’re inpatient again. You’ll probably end up one of my best friends.
I think about how it all feels like a story. It must just be a novel that I grabbed with a mug of hot chocolate one day. Because this can’t be real.
I think about love. And every day, whether you’re close or far, what we feel.

I’m blessed, for each sparkle in your eye. Each a reminder that hope is alive. Each time you get upset, and each time I see there’s on that phone, a new message. There’s a lot to learn about Truth while we live. There’s a lot to learn about love when we dive in. It doesn’t matter where you are, and it really doesn’t matter where we’ve been. There’s something that’s made a work in us, that reminds me each one of these nights that we know a love that will always let us live, again and again.

Thank you for knowing the words to a novel that I’ll never be able to write for the world.

You know 207 is another beautiful piece.

(Take all the time you need. You know where we’ll be. But remember love. Just never forget. And say what’s on your mind.  I won’t lie; I miss you.)

…because love wins.

Your eyes said the same thing to me that they always have. The whisper, and the embrace. It’s the core of a soul spoken beyond what anything we’ll ever find to utter as humans. Because these parking lots change us. And maybe, there was something there that told you that we weren’t put here on accident. That we weren’t supposed to just be trapped in the chaos of a giant ball that spins forever until it stops. Maybe, there was something there that was a hand on your heart to say just loud enough that there is love. That there is love for you, and that it’s enough.

Maybe it was enough for you remember how much we love you.

“So meet me at the end of the world? I’m waiting. Meet me at the end of the world. Please save me. This could be the place we start the rest of our lives…”

You’re not going away. You can’t ever be gone. Because that last glance always gets me.

Remember,you’re not alone.

…because love wins.

If you are a policy man, read Daniel

If you are getting lazy, watch James

If your faith is below par, read Paul

If there is no song in your heart, listen to David

If you are getting sordid, spend a while with Isaiah

If you are getting weak-kneed, take a look at Elijah

If you are just a little bit headstrong, go to see Moses

If you are impatient, sit down quietly and have a talk with Job

If you are losing sight of the future, climb up to Revelation and get a glimpse of the promised land

If you want to talk at anytime, that’s what I am here for.

…because love wins.

It’s so nice to have you remember why we’re best friends.

I love you.

…because love wins.

Those green blue brown eyes.
Break me.
I want to take from me the sparkle.
Give it to you.
So you can have the world again.
You walked up to me,
but you’re not the mess you see.
There’s only Divine strength and love,
where love grew.
It doesn’t end here,
while you think you can’t go on again.
The world marvels.
It’s not something we’re proud of perse,
but it’s the life we’ve been given.
I know.
So let me take your hand.
Let my shoulder be for your tears.
I’ll be here to be
what sometimes I had.
To be what most of the time I didn’t.
Because these days I know.
I know so I can be here.
I’m here so I can be here.
Just be here for these days.
I love you more than life.
And, Jesus does too.
This too, is temporary.
That, I promise you, little one.
Jesus understands.

…because love wins.

12 years.

Tony, what would happen if you saw your little brother’s girlfriend?
Alzarah, what would you think think about Tayden playing with that stuffed dog you gave me?
Nicole, would you hug a little longer?
Jackson, would you know how loved you were? Are?
Whitney, would you watch that movie over and over again with Jenny?
Jeremy, would you still build those forts?
Waylon, would you still tell your parents that rules don’t matter?
Tim, would your jokes still make all of us wonder?
Katie, would you smile a little more?
Ryan, would you still adore your little sister?
Axel, would you really sit next to all of us, and then do your stupid high school boy stuff with Tan?
Dusty, would you still want to marry me?

I turned 20 last week. In my two decades of living, I have lived. When I sit to look at the story, I cannot help but be overwhelmed be by 100 years of experience. 100 years of knowing. 100 years of faces and sparkling eyes. 100 years of knowing we’re not far. People can’t help but be baffled. I can’t help but be baffled. I talk about reunions enough, I do suppose because in those 100 years, I’ve learned the value of never needing to say goodbye.

20, I believe, really has been 100.

I believe all those faces would smile with me. I believe they would all smile with me as I sit down in a room full of college students to play a game and laughter erupts. They’d smile with me, because they’d be 100 years old now too. And because they’d know the ten decades that chained our hearts into the preciousness of the beauty in a smile. And because they would know that I could never explain this stack of intertwined grace wrapped, sorrow filled moments.

You know, maybe even if I can’t see them, they do anyway.

You all would have loved last night. I’d like to say I wonder what we’d become, but it just so happens that we’re still becoming.

I love you all. I miss you all. But, you won’t be far for long.

You’ll be in every moment with me. Forever.

…because love wins.

We sat in that Gathering Room and you turned on the one song that my heart needed to hear. Somehow, you reminded me how connected God keeps all of this. I’m pretty certain you have no idea how precious that moment was. But you cared enough to try. And, that, that’s more than I can thank you for.

You let me be in your life while it’s all falling apart. You think you need me, but honestly, I need you too. There aren’t words for that.

You confide, and I cry for you. You’ve been there. Thank you.

…because love wins.

My room looks a lot like it did last year. You used to type me messages from that little white phone before it belonged to your beautiful sister. I’d read them from a spot just like this. I had the same pillow. I had the same blanket. Just sat here, a floor above where I am now. In fact, it all kind of looks the same. But, oh, it’s so different.

Remember that day before this one, when you begged my brother and me to stay and spend the night with you? You didn’t need much to convince us, but we had to go where we had to do. He rubbed your head because you told him to, and I said I’d come back. That was the last day he saw you here. Not for me. I came back, and got one more night. It’s always this cliche thing, isn’t it, how song lyrics can move their way into day to day life? So much so, it seems, that there have been some written about you.

Your sister had just been your sister at that time, before she was my best friend. She drove up in her Red Rocket, and parked where she always wants to even now. She didn’t know how to get into the building, so called me and I waved from the window. She sat there and told me about what was hard, and who didn’t understand, and we were silent. A lot. We stopped for smoothies on the way home, and they tasted more real than they had before. All the moments before and after, just as vibrant as the taste changes within my senses. We didn’t know what we were about to experience, but we knew it would be real. We knew it would change us and tie us, forever. The silence told us so.

You and I sat in that room for a bit. Even our small talk was huge. There is no real small talk when it’s all there is; counting down days. There’s an unwritten understanding that we almost wished to paint the world in. We were going to eat dinner. Your sister and I stood and watched as your father moved you over the one, then two, hard steps to the picnic table in the back yard. You can still see the light now, can’t you? You knew it was beautiful even then. You hurt. You hurt. You hurt. You were about to become whole. We all knew. The light shone in your darkening eyes as the oxygen pump creaked alongside you. The sunset, just as your eyes.

Your sister rolled you over to the rain gutter after we talked about the food at school. What else do we talk about? What we live. We stared at that toad and you both raved about what you loved from life while you were adventurers. All these places weren’t just home; they were back dirt roads, tree forts, and adventures. “They were everything,” your eyes told me.

The sun set as we threw bouncy balls. Ferret smell. You know you’re laughing about that now. I’m sure it’s some sort of eternal grace. Hairbo gummy bears and patches for drugs. Two oxygen tanks. Movie decisions. Longing one more time for freedom. We were trusted in those moments. Your mom loved you so much in that day. And we all broke for ourselves, not for you.

Your best friend came over. He laughed with me about zombies and ran around helping you while your sister and I got made fun of for our movie watching antics. We texted people and realized reality, and you were dying. But you were living. 5am we talked about salvation. I learned how much I loved you. I learned how much cancer had changed me. I learned. You taught me.

Your best friend and I had tears in our eyes as he rolled over and looked at me. You had goodbyes to whisper. And there was no changing that. You told your sister to be strong and that she was beautiful. And, she needed that, as ever little sister does.

The light came with 6am, and your continually wheezing in those hours. Of all that I remember, I remember this.

You said to me, “Never be moving too fast to lay and listen. To listen to the silence.”

I couldn’t hug you when I left to find out that I was going to have a nephew soon.

Everything for four of us changed that day.

So, today, I sit. Your sister and best friend cover the walls of this little room. I look out over the volleyball court after she leaves in her blue Intrepid. There’s a monarch out there. It’s silent. I watch it flutter into the blowing wind. It moves side to side, and not forward. It fights it for a while. Up, down, over, toward me, away from me. And, then it almost stops in mid air. As if the hand of eternity reached down to touch it, it floats up, and backwards, where the wind moves it. When it quit fighting, it was free. I’m almost certain you know what I mean.

Your best friend is playing in his first football game of the year tonight. Your sister thinking of you. You understand more than we, and we know no more pain there is for us.

And today, we remember. We live, and we breathe. For four of us it changed, and will never again be the same. I can’t ever be the one that I was, as I sit here and stare at where her car used to be. And love, dear friend, wraps us where we are. We can’t be far from each other, regardless of what they say. What would you say?

For our tears fall silent, and the reminders whisper deep. Dear freedom, we know you’ll keep.

“You are Home. I will see you once again. You’re forever in our hearts, my friend.”

…because love wins.