I am five books into the New Year and I have to say this latest read was my favorite. Over the weekend I went to visit my best friend Amanda who recently moved to San Antonio because her husband Tanner is an Airforce Pilot. While she is standing firm behind the Texas flag and loving cowboy boots, saying goodbye to home and her people has been a challenge - and letting go of her hasn’t been my favorite either. SO I got on a plane to go see my people…to sit across the table and break bread with my people…and what better to read on the trip than Bread and Wine by Shauna Niequist. I loved it from cover to cover and it wasn’t a surprise. I love her heart for hospitality and serving others well so readily on display. I love her desire to let others into her home, for choosing to grow deeply as she meets with her band - her tribe - her family of fellow believers who may look and be so different in a myriad of ways, yet they faithfully SHOW UP to do life together.
There was one chapter in particular that brought tears to my eyes on numerous occasions. Throughout the book Shauna was recounting a season of longing for baby #2…a season of waiting…of loss…of literally grieving babies that passed…and months turned years of anticipating a baby that would not be. When she found out a friend was pregnant everything in her rejoiced with her friends and simultaneously ached over her own pain. She was THAT friend. The one living the sacred dance of bittersweet, who didn’t want anyone to know the depth of her pain - wanting to be present in the celebration and to retreat for the sorrow. And then a friend announced a pregnancy and came to her house with a gift and a card that read, “When you feel like shattering something, I will be right there with you. We will put on our safety goggles. I will help you break something, and then I will help you clean it up. You’ve been celebrating with me and I’ll be here to grieve with you. We can do this together.” THAT is the kind of friend I want to be in EVERY season - the kind of friend that sees BEYOND my own moments - beyond my own celebration of joy OR beyond my own sorrow and grief and steps INTO the lives of others enough to draw so near to their hearts and give them permission to be. That gift unleashed a freedom to ache and ultimately to heal. Someone noticed and saw and came alongside in human form. Jesus in the ultimately Healer - undoubtedly - but sometimes we need our people to love us in the mess and to say it’s ok to fall apart - to be loved IN the fall apart - and that reminder serves as exactly enough hope to be the catalyst to rebuilding and becoming whole.
This weekend as I walked through trees cascading with twinkle lights and drank entirely too much coffee alongside morning buns side by side with my best friend, I was overwhelmed by gratitude - by a deep sense of groundedness and enough. I long for a husband and for children. I hope for tomorrow and even still I am overwhelmingly thankful and full of hope for today. RIGHT NOW I get to go and be present for my people who live in Texas and Missouri and Maryland and Georgia…I get to run a ministry for teens impacted by the foster care system…I get to return to Africa. Right now has SO MUCH MORE than I could have imagined and tomorrow will have an abundance as well. Amanda walked by my side when the longing and ache was so loud I couldn’t hear anything else…and she is STILL THERE today when I can appreciate the laughter of her sweet boy and feel the wet breeze of Texas humid air. People are His greatest gift to us on this earth…sit across the table…break bread…it really is life changing.
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