Days

Two days ago, I was baptized. Five nights ago, I flew home for a week of my summer. Three weeks ago, I was off to Idaho to meet the family that is now my second family. Fifty days ago, my mom left me living on my own- my for-real own. Fifty days, plus a few hours, past marked the half-way of my study at Point Loma. A little more than two months ago, I gave in to hanging around this boy more than once. Almost half a year ago, now, I wrote my last entry here. And not more than half a second ago, I realized how thankful I am for the story of the last five months of life.

One of our last mornings in his hometown of Rathdrum, Idaho, Andrew and I sat on his back porch thinking on this very thing- stories. Not just a series of moments and days, but the care behind each episode. After talking about Revelation, he had asked me why, I thought, the Lord does not continue to use angels as regular messengers. My responses that first surfaced felt textbook enough: we have His full revelation in Christ, we're nearing the end times, only few are given this gift, dahh dahh dahh etc, etc. The real answer lie in wait, though. It had to be noticed. Maybe, I thought, mind running forwards and backwards, maybe, there is no more precious expression of love than the thought behind planning. Not to devalue the presence of an ANGEL, but isn't that as 'simple' as sending a whistle out the back door of heaven? Maybe. And, just maybe-I asked back at him-the effort that God has taken to script the smallest of smalls in our humanness so that they intersect with the rest of humanness reveals the climax of His love. 

Just reiterating this thought has made me thankful. For this place that I am now in, but also for that conversation-that day-that person-that life.