The Beautiful Goodbye.

I’ve never been fond of goodbyes. There is always something just a bit awkward about them. The words don’t flow as easily, the hugs feel cumbersome. And there always seem to be one of two emotions churning in my soul, both wrapped up and tied around the word “time.” More often than not, I tend to put a bow around the “just not enough of it” side of things. And a little piece of my heart that is taken with that goodbye.

But I have come to know a most beautiful goodbye – a farewell that brings with it joy and hope and life. I experienced it again Friday night, under large oak trees and a sky filled with stars. I saw it in the candlelight and the smiles, the dancing and the kiss. I heard it in the cheers and laughter. I smelled it in the flowers and chocolate – and even in the barbecue. The beautiful goodbye was in the eyes of all who gathered.

Erin and Ty, thank you for reminding me again of how precious life is. Watching you hug friends and family, take each other’s hand and run through the crowd to the waiting car – to your new life together as husband and wife, is a gift. It floods my mind and heart with love songs and words and phrases – all saying “this goodbye is not the end – it’s really only the beginning.” All speaking to this moment and so many more to come.

That is indeed most beautiful.

Late Night in My Head.

I’ve been asked before “exactly what goes on in that head of yours?” So tonight, as I snuggle up with my pup in our quiet house, I thought I would simply write down a few thoughts as I slowly fade to slumber. Note that there really isn’t any rhyme or reason to the order – much like real life. But as in all things, there is purpose.

As of late, I have been blessed to experience the heart-breaking joy of serving a friend who is dying. It is a most humbling honor. Taking out trash, filling the dishwasher, running the vacuum cleaner – all have a special meaning now. I have a newfound appreciation of Smoothie King and Sonic ice. I understand the scripture “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak” in a whole new way. And I think a Coke float may be the most beautiful meal in the world.

I am in awe of people who simply love Jesus. I can do passion, I can do enthusiasm. But simple is tough.

If I could, I would give each member of my family and each one of my friends something far more valuable than a gift that money can buy. I would wrap up an experience for each of them – a little moment in time that would reveal grandeur and delicate and big and little and awe.
• Hug an orphan in a foreign land.
• Get caught in a rainstorm. In a jeep. With the top down.
• Go four-wheeling in the mud in the piney woods of Texas.
• Watch a sunset sitting on the rock wall at Lake Hefner in Oklahoma City.
• Sit quietly in the midst of the snow in the Rockies and just listen – the sound is a symphony.
• Drive fast – really fast- along the PCH.
• Lie on the grass and look at the sky – and then imagine letting go and falling up into it.
• Stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon and watch the colors change as the sun sets on the rocks.
• Sit on a moonlit beach in Mexico as the waves crash and the tide rolls in.

I think I like wedding photos best of all; especially candid photos that capture a joyful or tender moment – or dancing. Oh, to dance.

What if, in this life, I am meant to be a conduit or a catalyst? What if I never again personally experience the opportunity to care for orphans or serve the poor – what if my purpose going forward is to connect other people to the ministry I love so? Could I be thankful for a life lived “in the wings?” I pray the answer would be “yes!"

I am amazed that the God of the universe, the God that created time but isn't bound by it, would find it important to intimately love and design a specific purpose for a life that is but a vapor. Thank You. Thank You so very much.