These are all words that were common to my vocabulary this past week, words which only scratch the surface of what Christianne and I experienced. For women who have identified their calling to be writers in this world, it is amazing how often we were rendered incapable of speech this week; how many times the experiences we shared transcended language.
We had both been in prayer for this week long before I got on the plane, asking God to make it what He would have it to be. He did. Every moment was rich and dripping with divine blessing. There were a few plans in place, but mostly we left our time open to the movement of the Holy Spirit. And He moved. There were tears, there was laughter. There was conversation and there was silence. There was joy and grief and amazement. There were extended hands and open arms.
And there was always a deep and abiding love.
I am certain that I've never experienced friendship like this before; there is a deep and hidden place in my heart that only she may occupy. How rare and beautiful a gift; I hold it close. I hold her as dear. On a day when cloaked and hidden things rose to the surface of our hearts and spilled out of our lips, we were there to minister to one another; to tend to those tender and most vulnerable places.
I imagine that in the coming days and weeks, we will allow our shared and individual experiences from this week to sink into our bones and flesh, to allow them become a part of who we are in a deep and visceral way. Though I look forward to sharing from our time together, there are some things that I may continue to ponder in my own heart, to hold as sacred and secret for a time, much like Mary did when she received the news that the Messiah would make her womb His home.
It was a privilege to share these days with you, Christianne; to be in your home, share meals with you, to hold your hands and be at the center of your embrace; to laugh and to cry and to pray with you; to entrust each other with places in our hearts that we have been in the habit of hiding away. To share our story in the StoryCorps van; to dance and play at the seashore; to speak affectionately to alligators and our breakfasts. To share life itself.
Until we meet again, friend; I hold you in that place in my heart, the place reserved only for you. There is always a place for you here. Love to you.
NOTE: To see some photos from our week together, click on the link of Florida pics below my profile information. Enjoy!