I am reminded of valuable truths after spending a night with some of the best friends God ever made:
A quiet house, before your guests arrive, is the perfect time to sit and be alone. And do nothing. Do nothing with a glass of wine in your hand and candles lit and music playing. And keep doing nothing.
Some of us can cook. Some of us can't. Take D for example...she will have us over with fresh bread and homemade cheesecake and say, "Oh, let me move my sewing machine out of the bathroom." Apparently the (truly incredible) super woman also sews while she...? brushes her teeth? (I love you, Priest.)
Me, on the other hand, well, I will offer starburst (fresh from the bag, don't judge), and say, "Um. I think there was a chip around here somewhere. Oh. There it is. Under your chair. Go for it, girl. It's all yours." (Just kidding. I buy cheese and crackers. And starbursts.)
This. Is. Me. This. Is. Them. This. Is. Us.
It's amazing to have friends that understand the darkest places of your life mean that you are being delivered in to the light. They understand that your house is spotless, clean, with everything in it's place. And they understand that your mess of an office is symbolic of the corner of your heart where you also stuff things, while you keep the rest of you cleaned up.
A new mom next to mothers of 2 or 3 children, still calling themselves new moms, because moms understand we will never arrive. We can just share supplement treasure secrets and stories of things others may find no beauty in.
Sharing stories of middle of the night walks in the halls with crying babes and laughing about the things you were crying about 24 hours ago. Laughing, in fact, until you are crying again.
You understand the power of trust with friends like these. You understand the veracity in a true spoken word; the right word.
You understand why the caged black bird sings.
Talking about selling a house you carried your babies home to for the first time...and that housed the fights. Hearing about the houses just bought...and the mothers that come inside.
Sharing stories about dead fish, and the only God that is alive.
And when these friends leave your house and you blow the candles out...it makes you realize, as you watch the flame dissolve, that all fire needs oxygen to burn.
