Daughter – Still
I keep coming back to a conversation exchanged somewhere on the interstate in Michigan. We’d just been given a sweet soundtrack for the night – half Jonsi and half old time folk – and had passed the part of a road trip where any topic and joke is fair game and likely hilarious. Then came the really good part, once again. It’s the flow of conversation that happens once friends become family. If you’ve experienced this, you know the safety I mean.
K was asked over again this summer why she chose to invest in them at all. Her answer was that it was the most significant thing she could think to do. And throughout her summer, she stood by that. What a terrible weight that bears, turning chance encounters into deep impressions marked on passers by. As one redeemed, my shoulders bear the presence of God, his image, his love. This changes everything. I think Spinoza’s idea is fitting again here, when he postulated that humans come into purpose when colliding and intersecting with other humans. A crashing into one another, an intersection of lives and time for brief moments or seasons or lifetimes, could be the most significant thing that happens to a person because I have come into contact with God Himself. It could be a conversation you don’t even remember, a comment in a letter, something you said during a study session, the way you handled a problem – we cannot begin to know how these collisions last.
The significance of daily choice and attitude cannot be overstated.
It’s the significance I can’t get out of my head.
(Image via here)
The Full-Tilt Life 