My move to Atlanta was both exciting and hard. It was in many ways discombobulating, wrapped in the highs of building a new life with my personal person ☺️, yet having to leave my normal, and those that had been instrumental in my life. I couldn’t box up my loved ones and bring them with me, and there was a crushing feeling about that.
I was worried about missing out on the little, seemingly unimportant moments that form a mental collage of fond memories. I am a sucker for the hard lines, intricate in betweens, spirally valleys, and long stretches to the mountain tops. I am a sucker for cozy days-in binging on netflix, sugar filled sleep overs, impromptu desert dates, planned long drives, scheduled monthly dates, still moments breathing and being, heartfelt conversations under the blanket of the night skies and so on.
I cherish intimacy and as such have the habit of lovingly hoarding pages scented by the precious moments that have fostered special bonds. So being on the sidelines in the lives of those I love dearly, terrified me greatly because I feared that there would be no more pages. I thought dang I wanna always be in it. Right there walking right along with, side by side through it all. But if I am being honest, I was also worried about being forgotten.
Months go by, and on a cold winter morning (by ATL standards…lol), I check my mail box and there was a letter for me. It was my first personalized mail since I moved to America. eeeeeek! I opened it, and it was a 3 page handwritten letter from a friend. THREE y’all. Single spaced too. Front and back! I almost lost it, right there in clear view of nosey neighbours. But I held it together until I was safely behind closed doors, and right there by the kitchen counter, I read her words through tear filled eyes.
Her words overwhelmed my heart. It meant to me that I was in her thoughts. That distance did not matter. That she was willing and ready to put in the work needed to keep our friendship vibrant and strong. She was mindful of me. Ours was not based on convenience, so she went the distance.
Her letter reminded me of the Bible. The words in the pages of a book thousands of years old. A book written by inspiration of the Holy Spirit, stamped with God’s love. His everlasting, reassuring, unfailing love.
Everyday His words remind me that He is right here with me. That I am in His thoughts. That nothing can ever separate me from His love. On the flip side, I also have to close the gap (remove the distance) by remembering that He desires an intimate, dynamic relationship with me, and so ours cannot be a matter of convenience. I must make room for what is important. He is why I am, and why I am able to be all that I am for my loved ones. What flows out of me comes from Him. So it is to my advantage, and that of all those around me that I always abide in Him, lest I forget that (1) I am loved (2) I can love wholeheartedly in spite of and (3) distance need not mean separation.
But if you make yourselves at home with me, and my words are at home in you, you can be sure that whatever you ask in my name will be listened to and acted upon. |John 15:7, MSG|
I read this and I think, if I abide in my Father, in His word, I will be full. To overflowing, and always home.
Words turn me on. But His words…? well, they set my soul on fire.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes! Distance doesn’t mean separation. Thank you for sharing this really heart felt excerpt. Ps: you are definitely NOT forgotten. See you soon!!!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person