Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Family like Fireworks // Personal

One of my favorite things to do is meet new people.  Not just greet them, become friends on Facebook, and acknowledge each other across the store next time you see them, but really get to know them.  Stay in the houses of complete strangers for a week.  Spend an overnight on a trip with friends of friends.  Have dinner with friends so old you don't remember them. . .
I've been blessed to grow up in a Christian community where you can walk into a stranger's home and five minutes later you are family.  Literally.  Make the food, do the dishes, hold the baby, get the mail!  No matter how different your cultural background or personal lives are, there is an amazing unity around Jesus Christ.  That connection is the deepest.  Loving Jesus is like a pile of gun powder at the core of your soul and when you rub up against another Christian it creates a spark -- lights a fuse!  It isn't long before your relationship explodes like a firework.
While in CT last week my brothers and I were able to share a meal and a little slice of life with this dear family.  It quickly went from "My mom knows your mom" to "I'm so glad to know you."  Their precious rambunctious little boys, quaint house, and chickens stole a little place in all of our hearts I think.  

After dessert dishes were done and the little guys transferred to pajamas, we walked down to the bay to see the Fourth of July Fireworks.  I always forget how much I like fireworks till they go off. 
The sound of the launch, and faint trail of light and then. . .
With a boom that drowns out your own heartbeat. . .

the sky explodes in brilliant flashes of color.

It's like we're creating stars.

Wonder is contagious!  Oh, to see more of life through a little child's eyes.

Then all too quickly, it fades away.  

The colors become smoke and the wind pushes them up into the silent air.  
All that's left is a memory.  

We breathe a contented sigh, whisper goodbye, and turn to walk away.  

We don't want to leave, but the time has come.  We take hope with us and breathe:

"Next year."