In the morning we're to the small college town where we spent our childhood, our youth, my parents' last years. You'd be right in calling it our 'hometown', that place among the hills where we found our own place, our own selves, in such important ways, in such an important time that people keep harkening back to that time and place every decade or so for the rest of their lives. We're among them.
Yes, I'm talking about a high school reunion. It's our 40th. 40 years since we wore royal blue gowns and flipped our tassels from one side to the other of our caps, said good bye to about a million people (or so it seemed) and walked boldly into a future we hadn't the faintest idea about. We thought we'd be friends with some of those folks our whole lives long. And guess what? We have been. I mean, Beve and I have been friends with more people we went to high school with than we had any business imagining back then. Shoot, we didn't even imagine we'd be married to each other that day we wrote in each other's annuals, walked through commencement, hugged and said goodbye. It wasn't even hard to say goodbye to him. But here we are, 40 years later, gladly married for 31 of them, with a posse of friends we've continued to love from those early days.
But besides those dear friends, whom we see whether there's a reunion or not, there will be other people we haven't seen in decades that it will be good to catch up with. I don't have any preconceived notions about this weekend. I don't know who will be there, or how they'll be. I'm not expecting anything. I just pray that I am present in every conversation, that I can sit with each person as though he or she is the only one in the room, not looking for who else might walk through the door or who else I might want to talk to.
I pray for a chance to be Christ in every conversation, to simply be HIM.
NO, that's more than enough. That's exactly what He asks of me.
I'm excited for who and what comes.
It will be good, I know.