I remember, “Can I take your order?
I remember her checkered apron…
the way she wrote with her left hand…
on that little order pad…
I remember what I ordered…
not being able to take my eyes off of her…
and not breathing…
I remember not breathing…
I can remember like it was 5 seconds ago…
the way she said her name…
the time of day…
how all the world faded to background…
peanut shells on the floor…
the smell of her perfume wafting around me…
I still big puffy heart this smell *sigh*
and her smile like the pure white of a first snow…
and the way she looked down first…
then up…
then blushed…
and said one word…
“Tina”…
…and put up her index finger to let me know without another word that she had to run, but to stay right there, because she’d be right back, as she scampered off with her little order-taking pad in hand.
I remember how her hair twirled around as she spun away…
and the smell of steak and popcorn…
and a beam of sun streaking through a window…
and how big my heart felt…
how hard it thumped.
I remember the exact size and shape and feel and handwriting…
on a small sliver of paper she ripped off of her ordertaking pad…
…“Tina…527-6…”
…like yesterday…
…like yesterday.
♥✞ღ
And I remember a different time. When I first heard that the Gospels were written by memory of events that happened many years earlier.
I was a new Christian.
An already wobbly faith started to crumble…
like the too soft ground at the edge of a high canyon wall.
I doubted…
until…
I remember that I remember…
a raven haired, blue eyed, teenaged girl in a restaurant from…
let’s just say a number of decades ago.
For 12 guys whose lives had been mundane at best, there were these three years standing beside a walking miracle, performing miracle. It was a whirlwind, crazy, spectacular, drama and trauma filled three years that altered course of their lives.
Every day a new lesson…
new amazement…
new bewilderment…
and awe…
and terror.
At the end of each day they didn’t sit around a television set, they sat around a campfire…
…and relived the moments, rehashed them, talked with our Lord about them.
If I remember a sliver of paper and “Love’s baby soft” like I’m there right now, how could the apostles not have remembered the most dramatic moments of the three years they spent walking. With. God? It’s not like they had to remember what they had for breakfast on a certain morning during those three years.
They remembered and told of the most important moments of the most momentous time of their lives.
I know I was writing – of the writing – of a gospel letter for our person who doesn’t know our Lord.
I still am…
This was that.
This ties in…
important stuff stays…
some moments…
some words…
have gravitas…
more tomorrow…
please come back.
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
Following, here, and praying for your ‘contact’….praying! That includes, of course, for you as you have entered into this gospel-sharing ‘contact’ thing, Craig.
A – my “contact is not going to make this easy – but I know nobody else who needs our Lord more. God bless you A.
This is a very good point and I have a feeling I won’t forget this writing today. Yesterday I might have been a little skeptical about the clearness of memories and being able to recount stories of the past, distant or not so distant; case in point, a car accident where someone has to tell what happened gets a little fuzzy in minutes. But your describing a memory made me realize that I have memories seared into my mind too, with all the minute details, and I can’t help but think…just as you alluded to…that being with the Savior definitely had to be mind searing. Thanks for that.
I realize that your bringing up old memories of the Desciples’ writings was second to what you are actually blogging about today…I just wanted you to know, ya never know when a passing thought can have a profound effect on someone. Pretty cool, huh? I love how God works.
Victoria, thank you. Those years were defining years of their lives – and as I said they didn’t have to remember everything – the gospel doesn’t have the smallest percentage of everything that happened – but they just needed to remember the most memorable stuff. That, plus one more thing, they considered Jesus to be their teacher, their Rabbi, and students of rabbis took notes – they weren’t going all on memory anyway. The things people use to poke holes in our faith have so many holes of their own. Victoria – thank you, and God bless you. And by the way, your Laskish is getting better all the time ツ