Forward

September. How are you?

It's a beautiful day. One to round up several afternoons that have been pleasantly warm in the day, and have cooled considerably in the evening. In the past couple of weeks life has returned to normal. Mandy came to visit, Labor Day had a little party at the house, spent some time hanging out with Matty while he is off from work, and got really excited to celebrate a birthday... I love birthdays... and when its your best friend's birthday- does it get much better? So, yesterday I got up really early to bring Dunkin Donuts Coffee and Donuts to Andrew Piper who was at work at 5am on his arrival to his mid twenties. I left camp and caught the sunrise, and like learned while in Greece this summer, it was still magical and peaceful in its silent articulation of hope. The afternoon brought a purge of all things in my closet that I haven't worn all summer, and things that just don't work anymore. It's an exciting thing to get rid of clothes that no longer fit, but friends... I may be glad to see those sizes go... but I really liked my closet. I really should have taken a picture of it. Anyway- after three hours of trying on everything I own, I got myself out the door for the Birthday Dinner for Mr. Piper with friends and then relaxed the rest of the evening with my two favorite non-boyfriend boyfriends.

Today I hoped to wake up and have already received the web templates I purchased for my website, but its Monday and the company I decided to go with is closed the weekend, so I imagine that when they guarantee delivery for 24 hours within purchase, that the fact today is a Monday means that I will receive templates on the later portion of those 24 hour window. I'm kind of excited, kind of terrified... kind of just ready to get that chunk of work done now that I've made some decisions and am trying to move forward.

Speaking of moving forward I have also applied for a job in Cincinnati. Perhaps to the joy and exclamation of Mandy Stegman, I clicked the application button, submitted the Resume, and then sent her the Resume so she could forward it to the manager she spoke to about me. Debating life plans are always frustrating, with a sliver of fun- because even though the unknown looms and I just want to know, there is an err of excitement and thrill too, because you know deep down that absolutely anything can happen. The hardest part about applying for a job that requires a move for me has always been, "Ok, if we get this, are we going?" I tend to want to know an answer to that question before submitting anything because seriously, why apply for something you don't think you'd take if offered. For the first time in a good while I found myself asking that question, without an immediate response after. The answer came later, in the wake of panic for thinking I could get it, back to the insecurity of not being a strong candidate. I am ready for a change, I am ready for the move. Which sort of ties back into my closet. As I pulled dresses off hangers to try them on, and then moved them to the pile of Goodwill Donations, there was something cathartic about the process of getting rid of the old... making room for the new stuff.

I am ready for the new stuff. There is sadness there because the 'old' no longer satisfies in ways that are necessary for growth... I still have a lot of love for the 'old', and to let go of it opens up fear for what happens next- and while I desire it deeply, I am also terrified.

Yesterday I gave Andrew the Happy Birthday To You! book by Dr. Seuss. He wants to start a collection, I like collections and birthdays, it seemed like the appropriate place to begin. I put the book down on the table after I'd read each tongue twisted phrase, and thought to myself that I should buy myself a copy of the book so that next year on his birthday we can iChat so he can still be read the story. It was one of the first times in the span of our friendship that I cognitively planned the future, and it wasn't a facilitation of sharing a zip code... it was about bridging the gap in distance. Today I woke up after feeling so content for the evening shared and birth of a beloved friend... and I was a little sad.

In making room for the future, it is hard to feel like the best things about life will remain. It's such a risk, such a chance, and its extremely difficult to not want things to be the way you think up in your head, just so you'd never have to let go. That is where I've remained this morning.

However, I know that,

Songs will continue to play on the radio that are divinely timed.

The sun... will rise each morning, that is for certain.

I will always love Diet Coke.

The ocean will continue to move to its own rhythm.

Sunflowers will still make me smile and make me hopeful.

People we've loved will always be people we've loved.

I will crave change as much as I avoid it.

Jesus will continue to redeem and restore my heart.

Moments worth savoring, will always pass in slow paced seconds- just so we can absorb them.

Letters, cards, and postcards will always tell the story better then we could articulate on our own in retrospection.

I want the future I know I need, but I want to believe that everything about my present that I love will facilitate it. I want to build my new life with those that I love now. I want to pack Matt and Tex up and move them to where we will next be. I want promises spoken, and I want to not think about how empty those promises have felt. The truth is... that while I do want the future... most days, I do not want it more then I want to still read a Dr. Seuss book in person to my best friend on his birthday.

In light of these things. I applied for a job. I opened up my heart. I am moving forward. It's a step. A beloved friend told me Friday that a step was good. In the face of what it meant, they smiled and encouraged me to take it. Sometimes, I want to creep up into their head and know that somewhere doubt, fear, and confusion live where they always speak hopefully. I want to see, I want to know that I'm not crazy for being scared and that together, we can be brave and uncertain all at the same time.

Forward Thinking.

New Spacious Closet.

"I'm one step closer
With my arms open wide
I'm one step closer

And I'm willing and to try

When you're standing on the edge
You don't look down
Till you're ready and willing to fly"

In Sickness And In Health

This past Saturday, our good friend Katie married Clay here in Lexington. While sitting among the other guests I will be honest, my mind wandered and drifted and thought about the trials of the week: Matty being sent to the hospital after going into cardiac arrest. What brought me back into attention and focus however were the specific exchange of vows, "in sickness and in health". I thought about Matty an hour south, at Roanoke Memorial Hospital resting before his surgeries that would begin on Monday. I thought about the span of my friendship with him, and I retraced every random road trip, inside joke, meal shared, and phase of life we have partnered in friendship to conquer. I then thought of Tex, the story of my friendship with him, how someone can mean so much after only two years of friendship, and how with Matt the three of us have created family with real support, laughter, and intimacy. Somehow those two boys mean more to me then most relationships I have had in my life, and have lent more to my growth in Christ and maturation as an adult then I often consider. 

Among a church full of guests, my mind did not daydream in typical fashion about my future wedding, or my future spouse... or anything about my future that I do not know. I thought of my present. 

I thought of Matthew Hypes, and Andrew Piper. 

And in those thoughts, my heart was full. 

I wrote an email today sort of updating those I had been in contact with in the process of Matty's hospitalization and progress. I hadn't written in a few days, and with Matt home I knew that it was sort of the last email of thanks and appreciation for the support felt in the week. I titled the email "Love.", it seemed fitting as I sat in the leather chair that resides comfortably on Houston Street at the boys house, and could only smile in deep satisfaction of how everything about watching the Food Network with Matt felt normal, routine, and typical. In passing moments I'd look over and notice his arm in a sling, and then I would piece together all the reasons why that was there. I'd remember the past week, the fear of the phone call I received last Wednesday from Tex saying that Matty was being flown to Roanoke after going into cardiac arrest. I remember the ventilator, the lack of memory, the awareness as he processed what happened, the Friday night when I finally realized how I hadn't yet allowed myself the emotional freedom to let go... There are layers I am still making sense of, and feelings that are still being resolved in the wake of the trauma. Thankfully, by all accounts and observations, Matt is as normal as can be. It is miraculous.

I have often said that Matt and Tex are like family. We are not typically understood by those who know us... there have speculations and judgements in the past two years. I honestly don't know how we function as well as we do, and by that, I mean, I don't know how Matt can spend as much time with Tex and I as he does without wanting to kill us (perhaps, this is where the refuge of "the roof" comes in). The truth is, when you look closer you will see what I see... and that is the ability of laughter that comes from the place of true vulnerability, when your friends can make you laugh at yourself in a way that would be offensive per suggestion of anyone else. You will hear the banter between "siblings" who can complete thoughts and sentences ranging in significance. You will see in the midst of my meltdowns, two faithful men hang onto every word, wait for the thoughts to make sense, and comfort each tear as it drops. 

Looking in you will see a set of three connected souls who do not have a marital vow expressed between them to promise 'in sickness and health', or a blood line that relates them genetically. But... you will see two boys that I would do absolutely anything for, and as I prepare for my future and where that will take me with the reality they will not be with me, my heart is deeply saddened at their physical absence but my heart encouraged because I am better because of them. I am challenged beyond myself to become she who waits patiently in the wings. I am promised from one, the stars and the moon... and the other, a lifetime of 'smooches' at the end of every thoughtful email. Their friendships for me have celebrated victories of self, offered unconditional support in adventures abroad, and for all has created a place of rest in each other's company that always feels like home. 

We are blessed. We have loved, laughed, fought, hit, tickled, traveled, cried, shared, and screamed together. With the welcoming of Matt home from a week of hospitalization, I know that I have seen clearly the bond between us deepen, and have appreciated the lengths we will go to for another, the sharing of support, and the unspoken understanding- we're in this together... come rain or shine... in good times and in bad... in sickness and in health. 

That. Is Love.