I remember the smell of coffee every morning.
The gentle cadence of Rachel and Ashley's morning chat and the shuffle of pages as they read their Bibles in the breaking sun.
Brittany's bright laughter that filled the apartment the moment she woke up.
I remember the groggy feeling of too little sleep induced by a night that made me smile for all the right reasons.
The crisp feel of the summer Colorado morning inducing frustration from this Texas girl who believes wearing a sweater in the summer, no matter what the time of day, is a crime.
I remember the laughter filled drive to Focus, the thrill of an unfamiliar day cased in the familiarity of home away from home.
I remember every hand signal for the Signs games that took place in the middle of class, the winks, and smothered smiles, the carry over of a night that bled into morning.
I remember the rush of conversation as we debated worldviews, abortion, truth, and everything in between.
The pen smudge on my hand told the story of hours of furious notes.
I remember the Sh'ma, the unfamiliar taste of Hebrew on my tongue and the heart connection to my Savior who said this every morning as a boy over 2,000 years ago.
I remember the brokenness and beauty of that summer, and I cling in the moments when uncertainty clouds in. I remember a sunrise that brought healing and strangers that turned into friends. I remember that all things work for the good of those who love God.
I remember, and I am strong.
The gentle cadence of Rachel and Ashley's morning chat and the shuffle of pages as they read their Bibles in the breaking sun.
Brittany's bright laughter that filled the apartment the moment she woke up.
I remember the groggy feeling of too little sleep induced by a night that made me smile for all the right reasons.
The crisp feel of the summer Colorado morning inducing frustration from this Texas girl who believes wearing a sweater in the summer, no matter what the time of day, is a crime.
I remember the laughter filled drive to Focus, the thrill of an unfamiliar day cased in the familiarity of home away from home.
I remember every hand signal for the Signs games that took place in the middle of class, the winks, and smothered smiles, the carry over of a night that bled into morning.
I remember the rush of conversation as we debated worldviews, abortion, truth, and everything in between.
The pen smudge on my hand told the story of hours of furious notes.
I remember the Sh'ma, the unfamiliar taste of Hebrew on my tongue and the heart connection to my Savior who said this every morning as a boy over 2,000 years ago.
I remember the brokenness and beauty of that summer, and I cling in the moments when uncertainty clouds in. I remember a sunrise that brought healing and strangers that turned into friends. I remember that all things work for the good of those who love God.
I remember, and I am strong.
Your words make the memories vivid enough that I can almost see, hear, and smell everything you describe. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful memories painted here. :) Thanks for your words Kariss.
ReplyDeleteStopping by from Lisa-Jo's. Beautiful writing!
ReplyDelete