I remember vividly, it was a mild April evening at the outdoor patio of The Front Street Cafe in Philadelphia’s Fishtown. I sat quietly with Pamela, sipping a margarita and sharing my brutal story of defeat: career, relationship, life. And yet I felt like it was a miracle I was even sitting there that night with her of all people, a complete contradiction of my years of conditioning regarding women; an inkling of a strange, mysterious hope. And that night it seemed like despite the uncertainty and the brokenness, a dust had settled, and this feeling that everything was about to change and become restored for the better crept into my heart and mind from completely outside myself. Continue reading “The Beautiful Contradiction” »
Another nightmare. This time we were setting up a Christmas tree and afterwards I held her but she kept squirming to break away and kept looking elsewhere, and then in one abrupt move she was gone, the tree was smashed and distorted, bent like the aftermath of a hurricane, and she was nowhere to be found. Continue reading “The View Forward” »
Could it be that even at this very moment, someone is praying for me who will someday join forces and do life with me? Could it be that like me, she’s prayed all along that I might become the man who is meant for her? Is it even possible that I am becoming the answer to someone’s prayer? Is that someone becoming the answer to mine? Is this too far-fetched, over-the-top, and silly? Is this too unrealistic, overly-romantic and impractical or is that exactly what childlike faith requires?
If impracticality and miracles are God’s specialty, perhaps my childlike hope isn’t stupid but the most noble thing I possess.
I hope I’m on my way to becoming the man who is meant for her and she is becoming the woman meant for me. I long for the day where our triune relationship with each other and God go forward in a life that’s conjoined. I long for the days our prayers become one and are shared and said together, when we embrace the adventure and challenge of a family. I long for a lifetime that transforms a bleak Albany parking lot on March 6, 2016 into a holy, sacred ground. Where I can look back at the lowest moment in my life and see the solid foundation for which all was rebuilt.
I want to live in such a way that is honorable and worthy of her, that doesn’t settle, that holds fast to childlike hope, faithfulness and impracticality.