calm after the storm

The lights are out and the heater is roaring. I've been at the dining room table for thirty minutes now, reading and writing. The wind and the front door have some sort of game going. Every few minutes the wind whistles up the path and knocks on the front door. After a few moments silence, the door knocks back its own retort. Here comes the storm. I'm left to muse as the hour grows late.

There is much to reflect on tonight: a weekend reunion with dear friends - the kind of friends who epitomize the following C.S. Lewis quote, which K gave me and I tucked in a journal long ago: "In friendship… we think we have chosen our peers. In reality a few years difference in the dates of our birth, a few more miles between certain houses, a choice of one university instead of another… the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting — any one of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly, no chances. A secret master of ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples, “You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,” can truly be saying to every group of Christian friends, “You have not chosen one another, but I have chosen you for one another.” The friendship is not a reward for our discrimination and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each the beauty of others." These individuals truly taught me what it means to be Christian. What it means to recognize the Secret Master of Ceremonies. I am forever better for knowing them. Each and every one. To be with them again was to be with family. Thanks, Sammy.

After our gathering last night, I was driving home a bit later (or earlier, depending on how you look at it) than I had anticipated. (Well worth it though, laughing with Valz and Meg after everyone else had gone to bed. Some things never change). I knew I was going to have to alter my tactics a bit to keep myself awake for the trek back to Salt Lake. My mind quickly went back to the people I had just been with; to their lives; to the time we spent together, living in the same place, experiencing the same things. I thought about them individually - what they have added to my life; what the continue to add, whether they know it or not. Bouncing from memory to gratitude and back to memory again, I finally fixed my thoughts on gratitude for the duration of my drive home. I felt undeserving of the blessings they have brought into my life, yet so grateful for their examples and the life-long bonds we share, which continue to strengthen me, despite the fact that the wind has carried us in many different directions.

Also, tonight my thoughts turn to the passing of our beloved President Hinckley. At such a time, words seem feeble. I'm grateful for paper and pen and the freedom to let my thoughts flow as I attempt to record any sort of private entry in my journal about a man who spent his entire life in selfless service to the Lord and to each and every one of us. Amidst seasons of change and uncertainties, I'm grateful to know that, near or far, no matter where the wind may take us, we have one another, and the knowledge that there is One who knows best.